Endlessly
by featherless-wings
Summary: Sequel to 'The Beginning'. Love story between Micky and Mike. Not real, didn't happen, this is completely made up by my own mind. Contains romance and sexual situations between two men.
1. Chapter 1

When Mike opened his eyes, he wasn't shocked to see Micky asleep next to him. It was a vision he'd awoken to several times in the two months they had been apart; although it had always only been a fantasy.

Mike watched Micky sleep for what felt like forever, and yet Mike would've been content to watch him for even longer. At the same time though, he couldn't wait for Micky to wake up. Mike wanted to see those almond-shaped eyes, and he wanted to see that sweet smile on his boy's face.

Mike felt lost in a little world where everything seemed far sweeter, far nicer and far more beautiful than he could remember it being before. Mike knew the future for himself and Micky would be a rocky road. He knew it would be turbulent and they would probably come across several hurdles along the way, but Mike was prepared to take those risks. His life had been miserable without Micky, and knowing that Micky's life had been miserable without him too made Mike realise they simply had to be together no matter what.

Mike had no idea how long he'd been watching Micky. When Micky eventually stirred and opened his eyes, he wore a blank expression. Mike watched his boy closely as Micky's eyes started to wear a look of surprise and disbelief. Mike simply smiled, his heart thumping and his stomach twisting in excited knots, the sight of Micky's fresh-from-sleep face almost taking his breath away.

Micky stretched himself slightly, and he blinked hard a couple of times as if he was trying to gain focus. Mike continued to stare at Micky intently, watching as the curly haired man fully emerged into the world of awake.

"I can't believe I'm waking up with you." Micky finally whispered, as if he was scared that talking any louder would scare Mike away.

Micky wasn't smiling with his mouth, but his eyes were filled with wonder and disbelief that Mike was laying next to him.

Mike matched Micky's look. "There were a few mornings in these past two months where I woke up and saw you layin' next to me. I'd always blink real hard, but when I opened my eyes again you'd still be there. And I'd watch ya for ages; I never knew if I was asleep or awake. But you'd be there, like you are now, right next to me. Just sleepin'. And I'd watch you until I had to touch you. I'd always reach out to touch your hair, but that's when you'd disappear. You'd just vanish into thin air."

Micky's eyes studied Mike's face - Mike almost looked sad at his admission. Micky reached for Mike's hand, and he brought it up to touch the curly hair on his head.

Mike's eyes lit up as his fingers made contact with the side of Micky's head, feeling those soft lively curls - and Micky didn't disappear this time.

"See," Micky smiled. "I'm still here."

Mike quickly leaned forward, pressing his lips to Micky's in a slow but firm kiss. Mike pulled away, resting his head once more only inches away from Micky's face.

"This ain't gonna be an easy ride, you know." Mike said seriously.

"I know." Micky nodded slowly. "But it was harder when we were apart. Whatever happens, we'll deal with it together."

Mike sighed deeply. He gazed at Micky sadly, lightly touching that curly hair once more. "I hate myself for hurting you." He whispered. "Seeing you like that last night... it killed me. I don't ever wanna see you like that again."

Micky simply looked at Mike, his eyes studying the Texan's face.

"In my head I was doin' the right thing." Mike continued. "I thought you'd get over me and you'd be okay."

Micky shook his head. "No." He responded. "You don't need to explain."

"I feel like I do." Mike admitted. "I hated leaving you. I never wanted to leave you, not for a second. You know that, don't you?"

"I do now." Micky replied. "But you were pretty convincing at the time. I seriously believed I meant nothing to you."

Micky could see Mike was visibly pained at that thought. "Never." Mike whispered, taking hold of Micky's hand. "It's always been you, Mick. From the moment I first saw your face... I just didn't know it."

"I want you to be happy, Mike." Micky wore a serious expression, and his eyes narrowed. "I'd walk away right now if I knew that's what would make you happy."

"I'm happy every time I look at you." Mike said, gazing at Micky. "You're all I need, Mick."

Micky wore a small smile. "Good... because I'm serious about this." He begun quietly. "This isn't some meaningless fling that I'm going to get over in a couple of months. What I feel for you is like nothing I've ever felt for anyone before... it scares the shit out of me, to be honest. I've never been in love before, but I love you. I really love you."

"And I love you." Mike smiled noticing that Micky was blushing.

Micky held onto Mike's hand, and he looked down at it as he slowly stroked it with his thumb. "I know it's not going to be easy, but...but I want to commit to you. I don't want any more bullshit or messing around. I want the real deal... I want _you_. And, well, if you want me...then I'm yours. Forever."

Mike felt like he could burst. Micky was so sincere and so serious when he spoke. Micky almost had a look of innocence about him, a look of hope and wonder. Mike couldn't believe how lucky he was that he'd been given a second chance.

"I'm sorry for how hard I've been on you... Since the very beginning I've been impossible." Mike said sadly. "I can't believe you even want to be with me after everythin' I've put you through."

"I told you, none of that matters now." Micky assured him. "I know you were only trying to do what was right, but this is what's right _now_."

Mike nodded. He brought Micky's hand up to his face and kissed it firmly. The two of them watched each other for a little longer before Mike finally spoke again.

"This is so surreal." He said quietly. "You and me."

Micky smiled. "It feels right though, doesn't it?"

"It does." Mike replied. "I don't think anything's ever felt this right before."

"Why did you come after me last night?" Micky wondered.

"'Cause you were upset." Mike told him. "I thought you'd been happy which was why I was angry that you broke up with Samantha."

Micky rolled onto his back, putting his hands to his face. "Sammy..." He groaned. "Oh my god, I've been such a jerk."

"No you ain't." Mike tried to assure him.

"Yeah, I have." Micky hit back, emerging from his hands. "I dumped her in front of _everyone_. I mean, I didn't want to. I told her we should leave it alone, but she just kept going on..."

"From where I were standin', it seemed like she was pushing you pretty hard." Mike confessed.

"That's no excuse though. I shouldn't have dumped her like that." Micky sighed, looking wracked with guilt. "I thought we were on the same page, you know? I thought she was cool with just taking things slow and seeing where they ended up. I mean, I never told her that's what I wanted... but she never told me she wanted anything else, either. Fuck... it's so messed up."

Mike himself felt pretty guilty at seeing how cut-up Micky looked. "She's a good girl. You just need to talk to her."

"But what am I supposed to say?" Micky looked at Mike. "I can't exactly tell her why it was never going to work out between us, can I? I can't tell her it's because I've been in love with someone else this whole time."

Mike sighed sympathetically. "Just tell her you both want different things, that you ain't ready for a serious relationship or somethin'..."

Micky nodded sadly. "I feel like such an asshole."

"Well you ain't." Mike told him. "She'll be okay once you've explained things."

"I guess I should see her today." Micky sighed. "Though I did just wanna spend the day with you."

"Well you still can. I can be here waitin' for ya, if you want." Mike replied.

Micky managed to smile. "I do want that." He said. "I guess there's some things we need to talk about."

"Yeah, you could say that." Mike scratched his head. "Like how we're gonna make this work without people findin' out."

Micky rolled onto his side again, facing Mike once more. "It was a lot easier when you lived here with me."

Mike nodded. "Yeah, but that ain't the case anymore." He said matter of factly. "I wanna be with ya properly... but won't people notice if we go back and forward to each other's houses all the time?"

Micky looked thoughtful. "Not if we're clever about it." He replied. "I mean, my neighbours aren't exactly observant. They're usually too out of it to even notice what's going on in their own living room, let alone what's going on down the street. That's if they're even there, which they hardly are. I really doubt they'll notice you coming over to my house all the time. And there are other ways, too... I mean, we both ride bikes, so they're easier to hide, aren't they? We both have garages, so we can hide them away so no one will see if your bike is here overnight or my bike is at yours overnight."

Mike found himself grinning. "You've really thought this through, ain't ya?"

Micky smiled sheepishly. "Well, it's not that difficult really, is it? It's not like we need to be James Bond to do this. We just need to be practical."

"You're so cute." Mike gushed, reaching out to touch Micky's hair.

Micky blushed a little. "Shush." He giggled.

Mike smiled a little sadly. "Are you sure you're gonna be okay with this though?" He asked, while Micky looked on blankly. "The sneakin' around..."

"How many times do I need to tell you?" Micky replied. "I'm fine with it. Of course I wish it didn't have to be so hard, but if that's the way it is, that's the way it is."

Mike nodded. "Sorry... I just need to be sure you're gonna be happy."

"I'm happy with you." Micky stared at Mike hard. "And what about you, are you okay with this?"

"I'll do whatever it takes to make this work." Mike replied seriously.

"Then we'll be okay." Micky took hold of Mike's hand again. "And what is it some people always say? "Nothing good is ever easy", or something like that."

"You're such a good boy." Mike said, beaming at Micky. "I love you."

Micky grinned. "I love hearing you say that. I think you could say it a million times and I wouldn't get bored of hearing it."

Mike leaned forward, pressing his lips to Micky's once more. "You're too cute. I could just squeeze ya."

Micky giggled. "Go on then."

Mike pulled Micky into a hug, squeezing him tightly. Micky giggled some more as Mike squeezed him even harder.

"Ow!" Micky giggled. "You're going to break me!"

Mike loosened his grip. "Sorry." He laughed. "I just can't get enough of ya."

Micky wore one of the biggest smiles Mike had ever seen. "Well you've got me now. Always."

Mike run his fingers through Micky's hair, his face softening and his eyes shining. "I feel really lucky." He said softly.

Micky studied Mike's face. "I feel pretty damn lucky too." He said before giving Mike a small kiss on the lips.

* * *

Micky and Mike lazed around in bed for the rest of the morning. They didn't even talk; they just held each other, enjoying being able to be close to each other after so long apart. They finally dragged themselves out of bed, had a quick shower and went downstairs for something to eat.

The pair of them sat in the kitchen eating jam on toast.

"I guess I really need to see Samantha later." Micky sighed. "That's if she'll even hear me out."

"You'll feel better once you get it over and done with." Mike said, taking a bite of toast.

"I hope so." Micky sighed again. "I hate things like this though. I'm no good at serious conversations."

"Yes, you are." Mike assured him, giving Micky a look. "What about all the serious talks you've had with me? You're much better than you realise, Mick."

Micky smiled weakly. "You think?"

"I know." Mike told him. "You'll do alright, babe. You just need to be straight with her."

"Yeah, I know. I just don't want her to hate me." Micky confessed.

"Well... I don't think she'll hate you. She'll probably need a bit of time, but she'll be okay. You'll see." Mike reassured him.

"Yeah." Micky blew out a deep breath. "Sorry, I don't mean to dampen the mood."

"Don't be silly, boy." Mike smiled sympathetically. "You know you can talk to me. Once you've spoken to Samantha, everythin' will be alright."

Micky managed to smile. "Thanks." He said. "Will you be here when I get back? Or did you need to go home?"

"I should go home, just to check things, but I can come straight back again." Mike replied with a smile.

"I could always come to yours? I still need a tour of your new place." Micky took a bite of toast.

"To be honest, I'd rather come back here. I mean, I'll show you around my house soon enough, but... well, to be honest, I've really missed this place." Mike admitted, looking around the kitchen.

"Really?" Micky questioned, looking at Mike with a glint of surprise.

"Yeah... This whole house, I don't know. It just sorta feels like home. My place ain't the same. It don't have the spirit that this place does... I dunno. I like being back here." Mike's cheeks went a little red.

Micky smiled. "You always complained that it was a mess." He giggled.

"Well I guess I never knew how much I liked mess." Mike gave Micky a small smile. "As soon as I moved out, I wanted to come back. Obviously that had much to do with you, but it's this house too. I 'spose it's just special. This was where everything started for us."

Micky looked rather moved by that comment. "Yeah... I guess it is." He said, and he sat there smiling giddily for a few moments. "Aww...you're so sweet."

"Shut up." Mike scoffed, finishing off his toast. The two of them smiled at each other before Mike spoke again. "So, I should go home, make sure everything's okay, then I can come back here. I uh, I kinda still have my key..."

"Really?" Micky questioned thoughtfully. "Oh yeah, you never gave it back, did you?"

"I don't know why I kept hold of it." Mike shrugged.

"Maybe you always knew you'd end up back here." Micky gave Mike a warm smile.

"Maybe." Mike smiled shyly.

"You should bring a few things back with you too. You know, a change of clothes, underwear, a toothbrush... Although I do like the idea of you wearing my clothes. That's kinda hot." Micky smirked.

Mike laughed. "You're bad."

"You like it." Micky flashed a toothy smile.

Mike laughed some more. "God, I've missed you. I don't know how I managed without you."

Micky's face softened. "It's been a bad couple of months."

Mike's face fell. "Yeah..." He looked down sadly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't keep apologising." Micky warned him. "It's done now."

Mike looked up. "You're too good for me, Mick... you giving me a second chance. You have no idea how lucky I feel."

"I feel like I've been given a second chance, too." Micky tilted his head to the side, looking hard at the Texan. "I thought I'd lost you for good."

Mike sighed. He looked thoughtful. "There is somethin' I need to tell ya, something I think you'll be happy about."

Micky looked intrigued. "What is it?"

"I've been seein' my kids... _All_ of my kids." Mike announced.

It took Micky a moment to realise what Mike had said. His face lit up. "Seriously?"

"A few weeks back, I called Nurit." Mike pushed around the crumbs on his plate with the crust of his toast. "We uh, we started talkin' again, you know, about everything... It was hard at first, you know, awkward and uh... Well we kinda sorted things out. Or we've started to at least. I saw the boy last week, for the first time. Only for half-hour or so, but it's a start."

"Mike, that's amazing." Micky's eyes were wide with wonder and surprise.

"It's 'cause of you; you were right about everything. I was being a coward pretendin' it was all just gonna go away. I should've listened to you sooner." Mike looked up at Micky with a slightly pained expression.

"Come on, give yourself some credit." Micky responded gently. "You could've carried on the way you were going, but you didn't. It takes balls to do what you did and face up to things."

"You said all the things I needed to hear, the things that no one else dared say to me." Mike told him. "Not even my mom had the guts to say what you said. You told me what I needed to hear even though you knew you'd get shit for it, and I _did_ give you shit for it. But you still stuck by me and encouraged me. I'll never forget that, Mick."

Micky smiled and looked down bashfully. "I just wanted what was best for you."

"Well you were right, and I shouldn't have given you such a hard time for it." Mike looked apologetic.

Micky looked up. "Don't be silly. That was ages ago now."

"Well I ain't forgot it." Mike said, staring at Micky hard.

"I'm proud of you, Mike." Micky said. His eyes genuine and kind. "_Seriously_ proud of you. I'm so happy you're putting things right at last."

"Me too." Mike smiled. "I mean, I ain't got regular access or anything, but it's early days."

"Exactly. Just take it nice and slow." Micky nodded. "What matters now is that that kid has a dad. That's the most important thing."

Mike nodded with a small smile. "Yeah... I'm finally getting my life on track." He sighed.

Micky pushed his chair back, stood up, and walked around the table to where Mike was sitting. He then plopped himself down on Mike's lap, causing the Texan to laugh.

"What are you doing, boy?" Mike chuckled.

Micky wrapped his arms around Mike's neck. "Nothing." He grinned before poking his bottom lip out in a mock-pout. "Why, don't you want me on your lap?"

"'Course I do, silly." Mike rested his arms around Micky's small waist. He'd thought earlier that Micky looked thinner than before, and once again he noticed that his curly-haired lover seemed to have lost some weight.

"Good." Micky grinned, leaning in for a kiss.

Micky kissed Mike slowly before pulling back and smiling sweetly at his lover.

"I'm honestly really proud of you, you know." Micky told the Texan seriously.

Mike simply looked at his boy. The two of them watched each other for a few moments.

"You have been okay, ain't ya Mick?" Mike asked gently, referring to the months they spent apart.

Micky's face fell slightly, and he broke eye-contact with Mike for just a second. "I'm okay _now_, that's the main thing."

Mike looked up at Micky, who was still perched on his lap, sadly.

Micky gave his partner a firm look. "Don't look at me like that." He told Mike, who looked at him blankly. "Like you're sad."

"I just don't like the thought of you being unhappy." Mike reached up, running his fingers through Micky's curly hair.

"Well I don't like the thought of you being unhappy either." Micky replied. "But we're both happy now, aren't we? That's the important thing. We're together now and that's all that matters."

Mike continued to watch Micky with an expression the slightly younger man couldn't read. Mike run his fingers though Micky's hair once more, his eyes fixed on his partner.

"Do you remember when you asked me why I cheated on my wife?" Mike asked in a quiet and gentle tone.

"I think so... yeah." Micky replied softly, wondering where this was going.

"Do you remember what I said?" Mike continued to run his fingers through Micky's mass of curls.

Micky thought back for a moment, looking up at the ceiling as he remembered Mike's words. "Uh, you said that something was missing from your marriage. That you felt like you were looking for something."

"And do you know what it was I was lookin' for?" Mike questioned, still gazing at Micky.

Micky shook his head. "No..." He replied quietly.

"It was you. I were lookin' for you, and you were right under my nose the whole time." Mike confessed, staring at Micky with such a powerful gaze Micky almost felt completely vulnerable.

Micky took a deep breath, feeling a little overwhelmed with Mike's admission. He simply stared at the Texan with uncertainty in his almond-shaped eyes.

"I was okay, strollin' along." Mike continued. "I wasn't happy, but I wasn't _unhappy_ either. When I met you everythin' changed. _You_ changed everything."

Micky was silent for a moment, perched on Mike's lap with his arms still loosely slung around the taller man's neck. "I'm sorry…" He whispered, looking down.

"I ain't blaming you for my mistakes." Mike reassured him, taking hold of Micky's chin and lifting his head to meet his gaze. "Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me. It took me a long time to truly realise that."

Micky managed a small, almost sheepish smile. "I'm sorry I screwed everything up for you."

"You didn't. It's just only now, or these past few months, that I've realised that my happiest moments were with you." Mike explained. "Not just when we were on the set, or performin'... but when we'd just be hanging out. In the black box, or backstage before a show, or in a hotel waiting to do a bunch of boring interviews. Just being with ya, jokin' with ya... No one ever made me smile or laugh as much as you did, or do now. I thought you were just a really good buddy, but my god, you're so much more than that."

Micky's felt his cheeks fill with heat. He felt a little overcome with how things had unfolded over the last 24 hours. Everything he'd hoped for for such a long time seemed to be happening, and he couldn't quite take it in. Mike's kind and loving words were more than Micky ever expected, though it was everything he'd dreamed of. When they were together before, Mike was hardly one for putting his heart on a plate, and now it was happening Micky found it completely surreal and hard to get his head around.

Mike was a little unsettled by Micky being so quiet, because Micky was never quiet. Micky just sort of looked at Mike with an uncertain expression.

"Have I said too much?" Mike pressed gently.

Micky shook his head vigorously. "No, no...not at all." He said, looking a little flustered. "I just...I never expected to hear you say those sorts of things to me. Less than a day ago I didn't even think you liked me, and now I know you _love_ me, and you want me, and...and I can't quite get my head around it, to be honest. I'm scared I'm going to wake up and this will all have been a really great dream."

Mike smiled warmly at his lover. "This ain't a dream, Mick."

Micky managed a small smile. "We're gonna be okay, aren't we?"

"Of course we are." Mike said with more hope than certainty.

Micky's smile grew, his whole face lighting up once more. He leaned in and kissed Mike on the lips once again, pulling away and grinning wildly at the Texan. "I love you, and I love that I can say that now."

Mike chuckled. "Say it all you like, babe."


	2. Chapter 2

It was late afternoon when Micky eventually plucked up the courage to visit Samantha. Micky was never one for confrontation, and being the people-pleaser that he was he also hated letting people down, so he was incredibly nervous about having to explain himself to his sort-of ex-girlfriend.

As Micky predicted, it was awkward. Samantha got upset, failing to understand why he'd wanted to get back with her in the first place just to end it 6 weeks later. But Micky stood strong, telling her that he wasn't the right man for her and encouraging her to move on. Micky felt awful, remembering the pain he felt when Mike ended things with him and hoping that Samantha didn't feel even half as bad as what he had.

When Micky arrived home, he found his house quiet and seemingly empty. It was early evening by now and the sun was beginning to set. He wondered if Mike still hadn't gotten back from his own place yet, or maybe he'd decided he didn't want to come back at all. Micky felt rather glum, as he was already feeling far from fine having just had it out with Samantha for the last couple of hours.

As Micky walked through his house, he heard some movement coming from the den. He opened the door slowly, and he found the room filled with lit candles - and Mike sitting on the floor with a pizza in front of him.

Micky couldn't help but smile at the sight he was greeted with. A part of him genuinely thought Mike wasn't there and might not want to come back. But there the Texan was, sitting on the floor looking up at Micky expectantly. Micky's initial glumness was totally overwhelmed by the incredible sensation of butterflies filling his stomach.

"What's all this?" Micky questioned with a soft smile.

"This is our first date." Mike announced, patting the floor next to him to tell Micky to sit down.

"Really?" Micky asked, a little grin now spreading across his face.

"Yup. Now come sit." Mike patted the floor once more.

Micky walked in and sat down on the rug next to Mike.

"You didn't have to do this." Micky told him, staring at the Texan.

"It's just a pizza and some candles." Mike replied modestly. He picked up a slice of pizza and handed it to Micky. "Here ya go."

Micky simply looked at him, his face soft in the candle light, and Mike noticed that the younger man looked rather touched by his little romantic display.

Micky took a bite of pizza, and Mike smiled at his lover, but he realised it was time to get serious. "How did it go with Samantha?"

Micky sighed, swallowing his mouthful. "She was really upset. I'm pretty sure she hates me now." He said sadly.

"I'm sure that ain't true." Mike gave Micky a look. "She'll be alright eventually."

"It was so hard, because I couldn't tell her exactly _why_ I didn't want to be with her." Micky sighed. "I could hardly tell her about us."

"It ain't nice to hurt someone." Mike said with compassion. He reached out and gently squeezed Micky's leg comfortingly. "But you did the right thing."

"I know." Micky sighed. "But I still feel like such a dick."

"You're the least dick-ish person I know." Mike smiled sympathetically at the younger man, prompting Micky to smile back.

"Thanks." Micky's mouth curled up at the sides. He looked down thoughtfully, rearranging some of the toppings on his slice of pizza. "Thanks for all this. When I got in, I thought you weren't here. I thought maybe you'd had second thoughts about us or something."

"Not a chance." Mike replied seriously, gazing at Micky lovingly.

Micky looked up. "This is lovely." He said gently, looking around the room filled with candles.

"Sorry the pizza's cold, I didn't know when you'd be back." Mike said, picking up a slice.

"I don't mind, it's delicious. I like cold pizza." Micky gave the Texan a smile.

Mike continued to gaze at the curly haired man, and the two of them tucked into the pizza, enjoying the silence and each other's company. Micky was surprised by how calm he felt after initially feeling so down after his meeting with Samantha, but now he felt almost total content.

After a couple of minutes, Mike spoke again.

"I'm sorry this ain't exactly a great first date." Mike said with a sigh.

Micky looked up from his pizza, surprised by Mike's words. He noticed the slightly older man looked genuinely disappointed, and that strangely moved Micky even more.

Micky smiled. "That's funny, because I was just thinking about how perfect it is." Micky beamed at Mike through the darkness.

Mike looked down a little bashfully. "I wanted to cook you somethin' special, you know, a three course meal or somethin', but you ain't got much in. Your cupboards are nearly bare, Mick."

"I know, sorry about that. I've been living off take-outs recently... Well, I haven't been living off much to be honest." Micky laughed a little, biting into his slice of pizza.

Mike didn't find it funny. He stared at Micky hard, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You need to take better care of yourself."

"I'm alright. I mean, Sammy cooked me a few meals, but I haven't really been hungry." Micky sensed that Mike was far from impressed.

"You've lost weight." Mike stated, watching Micky closely.

Micky pulled a pained expression. "I was hoping you hadn't noticed that." He said, visibly cringing. He looked down at himself. "It's not like I had much to lose."

Mike simply carried on watching Micky with a concerned look in his eye.

"I'm fine, you know." Micky assured him. "When I'm down, I just don't feel like eating, that's all. Now everything is good with us, I can start stuffing my face again."

Mike felt both comforted that Micky was happy again, but also slightly distraught that he'd caused Micky so much pain in the first place.

Micky grabbed another slice of pizza, and he looked Mike in the eye as he took a huge bite. "See," Micky mumbled with his mouth full. "You won't stop me eating now."

Mike smiled reluctantly. "I just want you to look after yourself, babe." He said gently.

"I am. To be honest, I've been trying to keep myself so busy I haven't really even thought about eating much." Micky admitted. He noticed Mike still wore an uncertain look. "There's no need to feel guilty, you know. I get why you ended things before. I don't want you feeling bad about it."

"Well of course I'm gonna feel bad about it." Mike replied. "I hurt you. Look at ya, you lost weight because of me."

Micky looked down at himself once more. "Am I seriously_ too_ skinny now?" He asked, cringing once more. "I know I wasn't exactly Mr Muscles before."

"You're beautiful." Mike replied without hesitation. "You could never not be. You'll never be anything less than perfect."

Micky found a big, soppy grin spreading across his face - there was no way he could contain it. "Even if you're lying... thanks. It's nice hearing that."

"You know I ain't lying." Mike said seriously, but his face softened. He gave Micky a warm, hearty smile.

Micky grinned from ear-to-ear. "I'm glad you're here."

"I'm glad I'm here, too." Mike beamed.

It didn't take long for Mike and Micky to finish off the rest of the pizza.

"So uh, this being our first date and me being the perfect gentleman, I guess I can't expect anything more than a peck on the cheek from you tonight." Mike said as he finished his last mouthful.

Micky smirked. "Well that depends."

"On what?" Mike questioned with a little glint in his eye.

"Do you _want_ more than a peck on the cheek?" Micky wondered, that smirk plastered on his face.

Mike climbed to his hands and knees, leaning forward so his face wasn't far from Micky's. "What do you think?" He replied seductively.

Micky could hardly contain himself, but he enjoyed games so he tried to keep his composure for now. "You must think I'm a pretty cheap date. A pizza on the floor, is that all you think I'm worth?"

Mike smirked even more, knowing full-well that Micky was joking. "Well... what can I do to make it up to you?" He asked, leaning a little closer.

Micky tried to look thoughtful, but it was hard for him to contain the grin on his face. "Hmm... I'm not sure."

"Do you want me to buy you flowers?" Mike asked, tilting his head to the side and gazing at Micky with an amused look.

Micky bit his lip. "I can think of something a bit better than that." He whispered cheekily.

"And what's that?" Mike pressed, starring at his lover with lust in his eyes.

"You could kiss me." Micky grinned.

Mike smiled, leaning forward and pressing his lips to Micky's in a little kiss. He pulled back and stared at the curly haired man.

"Is that all you need?" Mike asked.

Micky shook his head, that huge grin taking over his entire face. "Do it again."

Mike leaned forward again, and Micky started giggling. Mike pressed his lips to Micky's, only Micky's lips weren't puckered. Instead he still wore that huge smile, and he chuckled uncontrollably.

Mike pulled back, staring at Micky in amusement. "What are you laughin' at, boy?"

"Nothing." Micky giggled, shaking his head.

Mike leaned forward, trying to kiss Micky again, but Micky continued giggling even more.

Mike pulled back again, now laughing himself. "Well I can't kiss you with you gigglin' like a mad man!"

"I'm sorry." Micky laughed, unable to contain the smile on his face. "I can't help it."

"Well what's so funny?" Mike asked, watching Micky in wonder.

"I don't even know." Micky chuckled even more. It wasn't a loud laugh, or even a belly-laugh, it was just an uncontrollable giggle that got harder to control the more he laughed.

"You're such a weirdo, do you know that?" Mike asked, shaking his head in disbelief, highly amused by Micky's state. "You ain't been smokin' something, have ya?"

"Nooo." Micky shook his head again, but he was still laughing. "I'm not high. Or actually, I think I am. But I'm not high on pot. I think I'm just high on you."

"Wow, that's got to be the cheesiest thing you've ever said." Mike laughed, though deep down he was incredibly flattered by the remark.

Micky hit Mike playfully. "Shut up." He said with another little giggle. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself.

Mike raised his eyebrows, watching as Micky managed to get his laughter under control. He waited until Micky seemed like he was finally calm.

"Right, can I kiss ya now?" Mike wondered.

Micky nodded. Mike leaned in, pressing his lips to Micky's in a soft, sweet kiss. Micky melted into the kiss, wrapping his arms around the Texan's neck. Suddenly, nothing felt funny anymore. Instead Micky was filled with an incredible sense of love and stability. When Mike pulled back, he looked just like Micky felt. Mike stared into Micky's eyes, and they gazed at each other as if they were hypnotised. Micky felt his heart flutter, and he took a shaky breath in. It was almost as if he felt light-headed, completely flawed by how strong his feelings were for the older man.

Mike reached out, gently touching Micky's face with the side of his finger. "Do you feel like an early night?" He whispered.

Micky nodded once more. "I'd like that."

After blowing all the candles out, Micky and Mike headed upstairs to Micky's bedroom. Micky walked in first, switching on the lamp that sat on the nightstand, and he turned to notice a small paper carrier bag on the couch. Mike walked to the couch, gesturing to the bag.

"It's just a few of my things." Mike told Micky, who smiled like an idiot in response. Mike reached into the bag, pulling out a toothbrush. "Including this."

Micky smiled even more, suddenly excited that this seemed like a_ real_ relationship.

"Do you want me to just leave this stuff here?" Mike asked.

Micky thought for a moment. "Hang on." He said, before hurrying to his chest of drawers.

Micky opened the bottom drawer, which had the fewest of his clothes inside, and he lifted out the pile of roughly folded clothes and dumped them on the couch.

"There," Micky said, gesturing to the drawer. "That can be your drawer."

Mike simply smiled at the curly haired man, but Micky's face immediately fell, and he wore a look of almost panic.

"Unless that's too serious." Micky stressed, his voice travelling fast. "I mean, you don't have to put your things in there; you can leave them in the bag if you want. I don't want to freak you out or anything."

"Micky, relax." Mike held his hands out, signalling for Micky to calm down. "It's just a drawer. We've said the 'L' word now, haven't we? I ain't gonna go freakin' out about a drawer."

Micky's face went a little red. "Sorry. I don't know what I thought really." He laughed awkwardly.

Mike walked over to Micky with a smile on his face. "You're a silly boy. You're too sweet."

Micky felt a little stupid. "You think I'm an idiot." He giggled.

"A _loveable_ idiot." Mike kissed Micky on the lips gently, and then gave the slightly shorter man the warmest smile Micky had ever seen.

"I'm going to go freshen up." Micky grinned, giving Mike another quick kiss on the lips. "I won't be long."

Micky went to the en-suite bathroom, brushed his teeth and had a quick wash before returning to the bedroom to find Mike perched on the edge of the bed.

"All done." Micky announced, now wearing nothing but his jeans.

Mike rose to his feet, his toothbrush still in his hand. "My turn now."

Micky grinned as Mike walked the short distance to the bathroom. As soon as Mike closed the door, Micky rushed over to the chest of drawers. He pulled open the bottom drawer and found Mike's clothes neatly folded away inside. Micky suddenly felt a huge rush of excitement. On the one hand, he felt it was totally silly that he was so overjoyed by Mike putting a couple of t-shirts and a few pairs of boxers in a drawer, but Micky felt like it symbolised far more than he ever imagined he would get from Mike, and for that reason he was nothing less than ecstatic.

Micky stripped out of his jeans and underwear and climbed into bed. He found himself jiggling with an excited energy. The past 24 hours had been totally surreal. This time yesterday, Micky was at a party having a not-so-great-time with the girlfriend he didn't love. Less than a day later, he was with the man he_ did_ love, and they seemed to be totally committed to one another. Micky felt giddy with excitement.

It wasn't long before Mike emerged from the bathroom, dressed in only his boxers. Micky smiled lovingly at the Texan.

Mike stood beside the bed, a half-smile on his face. Micky eyed the tall, dark Texan up and down. "You're wearing too many clothes." Micky told him.

Mike swallowed, looking almost a little nervous, and he slowly pulled his underwear down before letting it drop to the floor.

Micky took a shaky breath in, flawed by the handsome naked man in front of him. Mike simply stood there, his hands crossed awkwardly at the bottom of his stomach.

It was bizarre for both of them. Micky had seen Mike naked so many times, but never standing in front of him quite like this. Mike usually only stripped off right before they had sex, and he was never one to parade around naked afterwards. But now Mike was standing completely naked in front of Micky, not erect, and Micky felt like Mike was doing more than just letting Micky see him naked; Micky felt like over the past day he was finally _seeing_ Mike for the first time. At long last, Mike seemed to be letting Micky in.

Micky gazed at Mike's body with more love than he realised possible. Micky thought Mike was absolutely beautiful. It wasn't just lust that Micky felt - it was far more than that. Mike's cheeks were flushed a sweet shade of red, and he too felt like he was exposing more than just his body to the curly haired man. After so long of hiding his feelings for Micky, so long of pretending he was something he wasn't, he was pleased he could finally be himself around Micky and be honest about his feelings. Mike felt like he was letting his guard down; not all the way down, but enough to let Micky inside those huge iron walls. It wasn't easy, but it was a start, and Mike felt like he wanted to let Micky in after so long of pushing him away.

Micky pulled back the cover, exposing Mike's side of the bed. Mike walked over, climbing in beside Micky. Micky moved so he was hovering over the Texan, only inches away from Mike's face.

"You have no idea how handsome you are." Micky said softly, running his fingers through Mike's thick, dark hair.

"I don't think so." Mike laughed a little nervously, gazing up at Micky. "You're the catch here, babe."

Micky shook his head. Mike simply smiled, feeling Micky was completely wrong but accepting it all the same. Mike wasn't particularly confident with the way he looked; but it didn't bother him. He wasn't hung up on the way people thought he looked - the only opinion he cared about was Micky's, and for some reason Micky seemed to like the way Mike looked - even if the Texan couldn't understand why. But in Mike's eyes, Micky _was_ the catch. Micky was perfect. In Mike's eyes, he himself could never compare to Micky in any way, shape or form, and nor did he want to. Micky was special, and Mike was completely fine with that.

"I'm so lucky." Micky whispered, staring down at Mike seriously.

Mike looked up at Micky's soft, kind face. He lifted his head to kiss Micky on the lips slowly and passionately. When they broke apart, Mike looked up at his lover under heavy-lidded eyes.

"Will you make love to me?" Mike asked, his voice breathy and quiet.

Micky took in a sharp breath, those words coming from Mike's mouth igniting several different kinds of fire within his body. Micky nodded his head slowly, closing the gap between their faces to kiss Mike passionately once more.

Micky moved his body fully on top of Mike's, and Mike wrapped his arms around the slender man on top of him, pulling him close into a passionate embrace. Mike felt his penis begin to stiffen rapidly with the feeling of Micky's lively body above him, the younger man rubbing his own growing erection against the Texan's in a slow and steady rhythm.

Micky loved the feeling of Mike's fingertips dancing down his naked back, and he moved his mouth to lightly suck on Mike's neck. Micky reached down between them, wrapping his fingers around Mike's erection and stroking slowly.

After a couple of minutes, Micky stopped his kisses on Mike's neck, and he hovered above the dark-haired man with a look of anxiousness on his face.

Mike opened his eyes, gazing up at Micky with slight confusion. Mike could read Micky like a book, and he could sense something was up with his boy.

"Why are you nervous?" Mike asked gently, reaching up and placing his hand on the side of Micky's face.

Micky simply looked down at Mike, his expression unsure.

Mike continued to stare at Micky with eyes that were comforting and kind. "We've done this before." He whispered, stroking Micky's face.

"Once..." Micky replied quietly, a look of worry on his face. "You went to Texas the next day... and that was it."

Mike smiled gently, carefully caressing the side of Micky's face with his thumb. "I'm not going anywhere tomorrow, or the day after that. I promise."

Micky stared at Mike a little longer until his face softened, and he seemed to relax. Mike guided Micky's head down to kiss him on the lips again, running his fingers through that mass of curls. Mike kissed Micky's chin, the tip of his nose, and finally his forehead before giving the younger man a warm, reassuring smile.

Micky matched Mike's smile. "Are you ready to do this?" He asked, eyeing the Texan for any signs of reluctance.

Mike nodded, his eyes confident and sure.

"How do you want to lay?" Micky questioned, his breath beginning to get a little ragged in anticipation.

"Uh... oh my side, maybe?" Mike wondered. "I don't like my legs all bein' up."

"It's okay, whatever makes you comfortable." Micky assured him.

Micky moved off of Mike, allowing the Texan to roll onto his side. Mike found his heart-rate start to quicken, and he did feel a few nerves start twisting in the pit of his stomach - but they were the good kind of nerves.

Micky took hold of the lube that they'd left on the nightstand from the night before, and Micky squirted a small amount onto his fingers.

Mike felt Micky's left hand start to caress his side, and then Mike felt something cold between his buttocks. Mike felt Micky's lubricated finger breach his opening before slipping inside. Mike bit his lip, closing his eyes as Micky's finger entered him. And then Micky's lips were on the back of his neck planting small, tiny little kisses that make Mike shiver all over his body. The finger inside of him felt odd, but it didn't hurt. Micky was being gentle and slow, not wanting to do too much too soon and cause Mike any discomfort in any way.

When Micky felt like Mike was relaxed enough, he slipped a second finger inside. Micky's hands were trembling a little in anticipation, and he felt Mike tense up around him as his fingers pushed deep inside.

Micky continued to kiss the back of Mike's neck, and his free hand stroked the side of Mike's body, willing him and urging him to relax. It didn't take long for Mike's body to respond positively to Micky's fingers, and when Micky lightly brushed against the Texan's pleasure-centre, Mike even let out a small, breathy moan.

"Tell me when you're ready, babe." Micky whispered gently into Mike's ear. "We can carry on like this as long you need."

Mike could feel Micky's erection poking into him from behind, and he noticed his own erection had reached full hardness from having Micky's fingers inside of him.

"I'm ready." Mike replied, taking a deep breath. "I'm ready now."

Micky removed his fingers, and he leaned over Mike. Mike twisted his upper body so Micky could kiss him on the lips.

"I want this to be good for you." Micky whispered as he broke the kiss, his face so close to Mike's their noses were touching.

"It will be. I need this." Mike replied, his breath heavy.

Micky kissed Mike once more before positioning himself behind. Micky poured some more lube into his hand before coating his erection, and he closed his eyes and shuddered slightly at the contact with the cold liquid. Micky stroked himself a few more times before pressing his body up against Mike's. Mike couldn't help but tense up in expectation, and he took a deep breath as he prepared himself for what was to come.

Micky guided his cock to Mike's entrance, and Mike felt something cold and hard breach the ring of muscle. Mike squeezed his eyes shut as Micky slowly and carefully pushed himself inside, a small, quiet moan escaping his lips as he entered the Texan.

It hurt, but Mike didn't expect anything less. He'd only done this once before and that was over two months ago, so he knew it was going to feel uncomfortable at first. Mike kept trying to take slow, steady breaths to get his body to relax, as at the moment he was tight and tense.

Micky's movements were slow, almost painfully slow for Micky, but he knew he needed to be gentle. He pulled out a little before pushing back in a tiny bit further than before, and he continued to do this slowly, hoping Mike would soon relax.

Mike reached behind him, squeezing Micky's left butt-cheek gently. Micky started to kiss the back of Mike's neck again.

"Tell me if you don't like it." Micky whispered into Mike's skin.

"I do..." Mike said breathlessly. "Just hold still a moment."

Micky obeyed his partner, and he stopped moving completely. Micky closed his eyes, sucking a deep breath in, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead as he concentrated on not moving.

Mike hadn't wanted to ask Micky to stop, but he knew if both he and Micky were going to enjoy this, he'd have to relax first. It was a strange physical sensation for Mike, Micky's penis inside of him. Micky was only about half way in, but it was taking a lot for Mike's mind to process that Micky was inside of him. When they'd done it before, Mike's head had been in the clouds, but now this felt totally_ real_. The more Mike thought about it, strangely, the more relaxed he felt his body become. It was a little uncomfortable, but Mike knew how good it would get the moment his body allowed Micky full-access.

After a few moments, Mike pressed his hand against Micky's backside, urging him to resume his movements.

"Keep going." Mike whispered.

Micky pulled back slightly before slowly easing his way back in a little deeper than before. Mike closed his eyes as Micky set a slow and steady pace.

"Is this okay?" Micky asked breathlessly.

"You can go a little deeper..." Mike replied, his body starting to become accustomed to the alien invasion.

"Mmm..." Micky let out a little moan as he pushed a little deeper inside of Mike, although he still wasn't completely sheathed in the Texan.

Micky changed the angle of his movements and brushed the head of his penis against that special spot that made Mike moan quietly in pleasure.

Mike took hold of Micky's arm that was draped over him and tugged on it, twisting his upper body and urging Micky to kiss him. Micky leaned over Mike, and Mike took hold of the back of Micky's head, guiding Micky's mouth to his for a heated kiss.

Mike pushed his tongue into Micky's mouth, and Micky found himself push all the way inside of Mike. Mike broke the kiss to let out a very quiet, low moan of pleasure, and he held on to Micky's head, staring the younger man straight in the eye.

Micky grew in confidence, and he moved a little faster and continued to penetrate Mike deep. Micky kept his eyes locked on Mike's, reading the Texan's face for any signs of discomfort. Instead Mike's eyes seemed to grow dark and lust-filled, and it was obvious that Mike was beginning to have a good time.

"I love you, Micky." Mike breathed heavily, his voice low.

Micky found Mike so sexy, Mike's low, breathy moans the perfect contrast to Micky's more vocal display of pleasure. Mike was quiet, his noises of passion buried beneath deep, heavy breaths that Micky found so _so_ hot.

Micky kissed Mike passionately, his pace quickening just slightly. "You're amazing." Micky moaned as he broke the kiss.

Mike laid his head back as Micky moved behind him once more, and Micky stretched his hand around Mike's front to start stroking his throbbing erection. Mike moaned quietly at the contact, and he absentmindedly thrust forward into Micky's hand, ultimately pushing himself back onto Micky's cock. Mike let out a slightly louder moan this time, but that was drowned out by Micky's much louder moan of pleasure as he felt Mike's inner muscles clench around him.

"Fuck..." Micky gasped, both his and Mike's breath becoming ragged. "You feel so good."

Mike had remembered this feeling good before, but he'd forgotten just _how_ good it felt to feel Micky inside of him. Mike_ did_ prefer it when Micky was on the receiving end because that just seemed to be how they gelled and worked together best, but this was still damn good. This still felt nothing less than incredible, and Mike felt like he was enjoying it even more than he had done previously.

Mike loved that Micky was a part of him. Micky was inside of him in every sense of the word. Being inside of Micky always made Mike feel like the most special man on earth, but letting Micky be inside of _him_ made him feel vulnerable in a good kind of way. It was a totally foreign feeling for Mike, as he never usually liked being anything other than strong and in control. Letting Micky take charge of his body felt like such a massive step for Mike.

Mike did prefer being in control though. If Mike was feeling braver, he would opt to be on top. That wasn't because Mike didn't like Micky taking control, because it was actually quite nice to give Micky that position for a change. But Mike felt like even allowing himself to be fucked, to be made love to, was such a huge step for him personally; for Mike as a man, and for Mike as a person. Letting Micky in, physically and metaphorically, was something he never imagined he'd allow himself to do, so now he was in this situation he felt pretty damn proud of himself.

Mike laid there, lost in his thoughts and the incredible sensations that were building in his body. Micky was totally in control; Micky was doing the penetrating, and Micky was the one stroking Mike's dick. Mike had never before allowed anyone to take control like this. As weird as it felt for him mentally, physically it felt fucking amazing. Mike's whole body from head to toe felt completely sensitive, but at the same time he almost felt totally numb. It was completely bizarre and incredible, and the deeper Micky moved inside of him, and the more Micky nudged against that oh-so-wonderful spot, the better it became.

"You okay?" Micky managed to ask Mike, snapping the Texan out of his thoughts.

"Mmmm..." Mike moaned quietly. "So good..."

Micky started kissing the back of Mike's neck again, rocking his hips back and forward. Micky started thrusting faster, quickening his pace so the bed begun to rock. Micky also quickened his hand on Mike's cock.

"Oh Mike...Michael... I'm getting close." Micky panted into Mike's ear.

"Me too." Mike breathed, looking down at Micky's hand that was now becoming a blur on his dick. Mike tilted his head back, moaning quietly.

"D-Don't come yet." Micky gasped, his thrusts getting even faster. "Please wait..."

"Uhghhh..." Mike groaned as Micky hit that spot inside of him again. "_God_, Micky..."

Micky was starting to get a bit erratic, and Mike could feel the sweat building between their two bodies as their orgasms rapidly approached.

"_Ohhh Mike_." Micky moaned again. He released Mike's penis from his grasp and gripped hold of Mike's hand instead. "Oh fuck...oh fuck... ughhhh..."

Micky's body lurched forward, and he jolted a couple of times, spilling himself into the slightly older man. Mike loved knowing that Micky had reached his peak, and the noise that escaped Micky's mouth when he came lit up the room like a Christmas tree.

Micky thrust a few more times before pulling out. Mike's head was in a spin, his own erection painful and his body suddenly sad from Micky no longer being inside of him.

Micky instantly grabbed hold of Mike, pulling him onto his back. Mike had no time to register what was happening until Micky disappeared under the covers, and then all Mike could process was the feeling of Micky's hot, wet mouth swallowing his aching erection.

"Holy _shit_." Mike gasped, his head pressing back into the pillow and his hips instinctively thrusting upwards.

Micky sucked Mike into his mouth as deep as he could, and he then slid his lips up to the tip. Micky took hold of Mike's shaft, pumping him hard and fast as he looked up at Mike from under the covers.

Mike managed to lift his head enough to see Micky under the duvet, and the sight of Micky's hungry-eyes and the head of his own penis in Micky's perfectly wide mouth was almost enough to send Mike over the edge.

But just when Mike thought it couldn't get any better, Micky managed to do something no woman had ever managed to do before, and that was take Mike's _entire_ length into his mouth. Mike's mind was blown as he felt his entire penis slip down Micky's throat. Mike had been deep-throated before, and deep-throated by Micky before, but not to this extent. No one had ever managed to get his massive penis so far down their throat, and Mike let out a loud moan in response.

Micky wasn't sure how he'd managed it either, but somehow he'd got his throat to relax enough to take Mike down to the root. Micky held Mike's hips in place, fearing that if Mike was to thrust upwards he may end up choking to death on Mike's cock. "_Well, there's worse ways to go I suppose._" Micky thought.

Micky realised how much he'd missed sucking Mike's dick. Micky really, _really_ enjoyed it. Micky liked how it felt in his mouth, and he loved knowing just how good it made Mike feel. Micky played with Mike's balls, and he bobbed his head quickly as he sensed by Mike's heaving chest and quick, shallow breaths that he was getting close now.

"Mick...Micky...Hghhh..." Mike groaned, his head pressing hard into the pillow and his hand fisting Micky's curls tightly.

Although Micky hadn't done this for a couple of months, it was just like riding a bike - you never forget how to take a mouthful of come. Mike exploded into Micky's mouth, and Micky got a kick out of the force of Mike's ejaculation. Micky swallowed without hesitation, and he continued to suck his lover as Mike rode out his orgasm.

Micky slid Mike back into his mouth all the way, sucking him until he was soft. Micky then let Mike's cock fall out of his mouth, and he climbed back up from beneath the covers, laying on his stomach beside Mike, propped up by his arms so he could see his lovers face.

"Oh my god." Mike panted, his breath ragged and strained.

Micky's own breath was heavy, and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, staring at the Texan with eyes filled with love.

Mike managed to open his own eyes enough to look at Micky. "That was amazing. All of it...holy shit, Micky."

Micky gave Mike a warm smile. "I missed how you taste... You taste really good." He said, a seductive and loving look on his face.

Mike pulled Micky into a deep kiss, and he could taste the salty remains of his come in Micky's mouth. When they broke the kiss, Mike kept his hand on the side of Micky's face, and he guided the curly head down so it rested on his chest.

Micky cuddled close to Mike, who opened his long arms up to welcome Micky into a tight hug. Their breathing was still heavy and their bodies were still covered in a thin layer of sweat that was slowly beginning to dry.

Mike rested the side of his head against Micky's curls, and he found himself grinning as through the scent of sex he could smell the overwhelming aroma of oranges. Mike squeezed Micky a little closer, completely dumbstruck by how happy he felt.

They lazed like this for about 10 minutes. Micky eventually rolled onto his stomach so he could look at Mike again. Mike laid there looking at his boy from under heavy eyelids.

"Can I ask you something?" Micky wondered, staring at Mike curiously.

Mike couldn't help but smile. "'Course you can." He replied lazily.

"This will probably sound really stupid, but I just need to clarify a couple of things," Micky begun. He started drawing little circles on Mike's chest awkwardly. "It probably goes without saying. I mean, it does for me anyway. It probably does for you too, but I've been wrong about this stuff before and I want to make sure we're on exactly the same page."

Mike couldn't help but look at Micky through amused eyes, wondering what on earth he was going to say. "What do you need to clarify, Mick?" He asked gently.

"It's stupid really, you'll probably think I'm a total idiot. Especially as we know we love each other and everything..." Micky scratched his head.

"What is it, babe?" Mike pressed gently, the smile still on his face as he watched Micky curiously.

"Well... we _are_ in a relationship now, aren't we?" Micky asked, cringing slightly at the question. "I mean, I think we are, and like I said, I think it sorta goes without saying. But I know you didn't want to put a label on things when we were together before and-"

"We're in a relationship, Micky." Mike replied, his amused smile turning warm and loving. "We're a couple."

Micky looked genuinely relieved. "Phew." He puffed out a breath, and then let out a little giggle. "I mean, I thought we were, but I just wanted to make sure."

Mike beamed at the curly haired man. "You're just the sweetest thing."

"Do you think that was a stupid question?" Micky asked, his eyebrows knotted together as if he was cringing again.

"Well considering the way I was with ya when we were together before, then no, I don't think it's a stupid question at all." Mike replied seriously.

Micky smiled. "And just so we're totally, _totally_ clear... I want this to be an exclusive relationship. You know, just you and me. I don't want to see anyone else, and I don't want you to see anyone else either. I know you feel the same, but I just want to- I don't know..."

Mike's smile returned. "Well that's good, 'cause I can't think of anythin' worse than seeing anyone else, and I sure as hell don't want you seeing anyone else either."

Micky's smile grew. "Thanks." He said. "I mean, I knew that already, but it's nice to hear it."

"This is the real deal now, Mick." Mike assured him, looking at him hard.

Micky grinned. "I know. It's amazing." He gushed. "We're an _actual_ couple... that is so groovy. I mean, you don't have to call me your boyfriend, because that's a little odd. Unless you want to, then it's groovy, but-"

"_Partners_." Mike cut Micky off. "We're partners."

Mike feared Micky's face might tare from smiling so much. "Partners." Micky repeated. "I like that."

"I guess I figure it's about time we put a label on it." Mike gave Micky a shy look.

Micky gently pressed the tip of Mike's nose. "You know, as horrible as these past couple of months have been, I think it did us good. I know it showed me that I was for real about you, even if I didn't think you were for real about me. It taught me that I was truly prepared to do this with you if I got the chance, no matter what the consequences. And now I _have_ got the chance, and I'm so fucking happy about that."

Mike nodded slowly in agreement. "I missed you every day, baby." He said quietly, stroking Micky's face with the side of his finger. "Thank you for being so understanding."

Micky watched Mike with a gentle look. "I think we're gonna be really good together." He said softly. "I think I can make you really happy."

"I _know_ you can." Mike said seriously, giving Micky a stern look. "It's just the other way around I ain't so sure about."

Micky shook his head. "You already make me happy." He replied.

Mike still watched Micky seriously, staring at his boy in wonder and hope. Mike wasn't 100% convinced he could make Micky as happy as he deserved to be, but he was going to try his very best.

"Just remember, anythin' I have done, and will do, will be for you." Mike said seriously, his face almost sad.

"Just be with me. That's all I need." Micky tilted his head to the side. "I love you."

Mike smiled gently. "Love you too, Mick."


	3. Chapter 3

The next month fluttered by without a hitch for Mike and Micky. Micky was walking on air the entire time, his head well and truly stuck in the clouds. Mike was equally as happy, but he managed to keep his feet on the ground. Micky and Mike spent every spare moment together, and they mainly kept themselves to themselves, spending their time more or less equally between each of their houses. It was only the weekends that they were apart, when Mike's children stayed with him. Other than that, they spent most nights together. Micky stopped going out as much, telling people he was busy "getting over" his relationship with Samantha. Micky still felt a little guilty, and he didn't like lying to everyone, but he was too happy to let it bother him too much. Everything was going swimmingly.

It was now the eve of the bands summer tour. Rehearsals had been a success a couple of weeks before, and Mike, Micky and Davy felt totally prepared for two months on the road. Mike had spent the day with his children, as he wouldn't get to see them again for several weeks, and now he and Micky were enjoying their last night at home together.

Micky sat on the couch with his head buried in a book, and Mike sat beside the slightly younger man. Mike had tried to pay attention to the TV, but it was in vain - he was too distracted by Micky. Mike loved watching Micky read. Micky, as always, was so animated - even when he was reading. Mike felt like he knew what was happening in the book without reading it himself, thanks to Micky's gasps, his laughter, his smiles and his frowns. Mike thought Micky was absolutely lovely, his flat face scrunched up as he read a particularly dramatic part of his science-fiction novel. Micky also wore his glasses which Mike too found adorable.

Mike had totally given up on watching the TV, instead choosing to watch Micky instead; Micky was far more entertaining, after all. Mike watched his boy with an amused smile on his face, and he had no idea how long he'd been staring at the curly haired man next to him - it must've been 10 minutes at least. Micky was in his own little world, and he hadn't noticed he was being gazed at intently by the Texan beside him.

Micky finished a chapter. As he paused to turn the page, he glanced up at Mike and noticed his partner staring at him with that same amused look.

"What are you looking at?" Micky asked, confused.

The fact that Micky was clueless only made him even more adorable in Mike's eyes. "Nothin'." Mike replied, still wearing an amused expression.

"Have I got something on my face?" Micky asked, wondering if he had chocolate on him from earlier. He wiped his face with his hand.

Mike let out a little chuckle. "No, you ain't got nothin' on your face."

Micky gave Mike a suspicious look before turning to his book once more. Micky stared at the page blankly, still feeling Mike's eyes on him. When Micky looked up again, Mike was still watching him with a face that looked as if he was being totally entertained.

Micky grabbed his bookmark that sat on the arm of the chair, and closed his book up, turning to face the Texan again. "Come on, why are you looking at me like that?" Micky pressed, a confused smile on his face.

Mike shrugged, teasing Micky.

Micky liked games, but at the same time he wanted to know what Mike was thinking. Micky pulled the cushion out from behind him and threw it at Mike playfully. "Tell me!" He giggled.

Mike laughed. "'Cause you're adorable when you read, that's why."

Micky looked totally confused. "Why? I'm not doing anything."

Mike laughed. "Oh baby... You're _always_ doin' _something_. That face never stops."

Micky frowned, failing to understand what Mike was talking about. "I don't get it. You're really weird."

Mike laughed even more. "And you're cute."

"Are you making fun of me?" Micky asked, still eyeing the Texan with amused suspicion. "Is it because I have to wear these stupid glasses?"

"You know I love your glasses." Mike smiled. "They make you look... well, I was gonna say sophisticated, but I don't think you could_ ever_ look sophisticated..."

"Hey!" Micky giggled, grabbing the cushion and hitting Mike playfully once more. "You're so mean to me."

"You know I'm messin' with ya, babe." Mike beamed. "I love your glasses. And I love watchin' you read."

"You big weirdo." Micky smiled bashfully.

"You can carry on with your book, I don't mind." Mike told him.

"Nah, I'm finished for tonight. I'll save some for the flight tomorrow." Micky stretched his legs out.

Mike still wore a smile, but his face turned more serious. "You know it's all gonna change from tomorrow, don't ya?"

"Well, not really." Micky replied. "We're still gonna get to be together every day. Actually, we'll be together more."

"Yeah, but it ain't gonna be the same." Mike gave Micky a knowing look. "We're gonna be around other people all the time. It ain't like we're gonna be alone."

"But we'll make time for each other, won't we?" Micky asked. "It'll be easy. We can just sneak into each other's hotel rooms at night."

Micky grinned, but Mike's face fell, and the Texan instantly looked uncomfortable. "I don't know about that, Micky."

"Why?" Micky frowned. "You know how it works; it'll be the same as always. Me, you and Davy will have the whole floor to ourselves. It's not like there'll be anyone else around."

"Yeah, and our rooms are all next to each other." Mike said seriously. "I don't really want us, you know,_ together_ in one room, with Davy in the next."

"Well we'll go to whoever's room isn't next to Davy's." Micky suggested.

"And what if Davy's room is in the middle?" Mike wondered.

"Jesus, Mike." Micky sighed. "You don't half make it difficult, do you?"

"I ain't makin' it difficult. I'm just bein' practical." Mike responded.

Micky sighed again. "Look, it'll be fine. Davy won't hear anything - I'll be quiet. I _can_ be quiet, you know. Or you can put a pillow over my face or something."

"_Micky_." Mike gave the younger man a stern look.

"I'm just kidding... sort of." Micky hit back. "But come on, what do take me for? I don't expect us to have loud and wild sex with Davy in the next room. I'm hardly going to be screaming through the wall; "Mike! Mike! Harder! Go harder!" with Davy next door."

Mike stared at Micky.

"We don't even have to have sex. A kiss and a cuddle will do me fine." Micky went on. "Unless you're saying we're not going to be together at all for the next two months?"

"That ain't what I'm saying." Mike sighed. "I just... I don't know. We need to be careful."

"And we will be." Micky assured him. "It's not like we have to do it every single night. But I'd at least like us to have some quality time together now and then. Like I said, it'll just be us three on the entire floor."

Mike rubbed his head. "I suppose." He conceded. "We just can't let anythin' stuff this up, Mick."

"Nothing will." Micky replied, looking at Mike with hope. "It's going to be amazing. We'll get to be together every day, play shows every night, visit all these groovy cities. It's going to be epic, man."

Mike smiled reluctantly. "You do know it ain't gonna be simple though, don't you? And I ain't just talkin' about us sneaking into each other's hotel rooms at night."

Micky looked at Mike blankly.

Mike sighed. "This past month has been incredible... It's probably been the best month of my life. But we've been in our little bubble, Mick, just you and me. No one else. How many times have we really been around people, together, since _we've_ been together? Apart from the tour rehearsals, we ain't. And that was work; we were so busy practicing and figuring out what we're gonna do that we didn't have time to hang out and chit-chat with everyone. This next couple of months is gonna be different. There's going to be long flights, long car rides, so much spare time to kill. You, me, Davy, the crew. Just hangin' out. And it ain't gonna be like when me and you hang out. We ain't gonna be _us_."

"Well I know that." Micky looked a little put out, folding his arms. "I hardly expect us to be kissing and holding hands in front of everyone."

Mike smiled sadly. "That ain't what I mean, babe." He said gently. "But we don't need to be doin' that to make people think there's something going on here. Just because we won't be kissin' or anythin' it don't mean we can't give off signals. All it takes is one look, one touch, one word without thinking, and that's it."

"But we won't do that." Micky frowned.

Mike sighed. "We're so natural together, Mick. When I'm with you, I feel this energy... It ain't just a sexual thing, but there's this fire between us. This atmosphere. Do you feel that too?"

"Well of course I do. You know I do." Micky replied, watching Mike curiously.

"We've been in our bubble for the past month and that's been amazing, but tomorrow our bubble will burst and we have to go back to the real world." Mike explained. "Think about how it's been for us these past four weeks. Now think about how we're going to have to put a lid on it all. It ain't gonna be as easy as you think, babe."

Micky was thoughtful, taking in what Mike said. "I guess..." He said quietly.

"I ain't sayin' we're gonna grab each other and start makin' out in front of everyone." Mike continued. "But at the end of the day, we can't be ourselves, not really. We have to put a guard up. We can't afford to raise anyone's suspicions for even a second. Once can may be ignored, but two or three times? We have to be really, _really_ careful, Mick. We're going to have to work really hard to make sure we contain what we have. I don't want anyone messin' this up for us."

Micky sighed deeply, nodding his head. "I suppose..." He scratched his head thoughtfully. "I mean, we _are_ good together. And, like, we are a proper couple now. And I guess you're right when you say there's more obvious signs two people are together than just kissing or holding hands. I guess it _will_ be hard to not be couple-y with you."

"It'll be hard for both of us, babe." Mike scooted closer to Micky on the couch. "We _both_ have to work hard at this. It'd be different if it was only one of us there, but we'll both be there. We'll be there together, every day, around everyone else."

"But we won't really be_ together_." Micky looked Mike in the eye.

"Exactly." Mike gave Micky a loving look.

Micky sighed once more, looking ahead. He then looked back at Mike. "Man... I'm going to miss you."

Mike smiled sadly. "We'll try our best to make time for each other, but it ain't always gonna be easy. If one of us gets caught sneakin' into the others room late at night once, we might be able to talk ourselves out of it, make up some excuse. But all it takes is the same person to catch us more than once and we're screwed, Micky."

"I know." Micky nodded, looking down. Yet again he sighed sadly. "I wish it didn't have to be so hard."

"I know, babe." Mike stretched his arm around his partner. "But we'll make it work."

Micky looked up at the Texan. "We just have to be really careful."

Mike nodded. "Exactly." He whispered, carefully stroking Micky's face. "We have to protect us."

Micky managed to smile. "It's lucky I love you."

"It's because we love each other that we're willing to do this." Mike said honestly. "There's no way we'd risk all this if this was just some meaningless fling."

* * *

The flight to New York was long, and even in the plush seats of their own personal plane - The Monkee Express - after several hours it became uncomfortable. Micky was both anxious and excited about the coming weeks; he was excited that the band were back on the road again after quite a long absence from touring, but he was also nervous about how the tour would affect his relationship with Mike.

Micky tried to read a book, but after an hour or two he got distracted. Mike was sat the other side of the plane, and Micky glanced at his partner to see Mike resting his head on his hand, gazing out of the window longingly. Micky knew Mike wasn't a big fan of flying. Long flights didn't bother Micky apart from the fact that he got incredibly bored. Usually Micky would be with the others, playing cards or truth or dare or some silly game like that, but all Micky really wanted to do to kill the time was sit with Mike.

Micky's mind seemed to go into overdrive. Already he was finding it difficult that he and Mike couldn't be 'together' as they had been for the past month. More than anything, Micky wanted to sit next to Mike. Just resting his head on Mike's shoulder, or having Mike play with his curly hair, would make time go faster. When the plane hit some pretty rough turbulence, Micky instinctively stood - bad move, seeing as the plane was rocking back and forth - to go sit beside Mike, knowing how nervous Mike got when the flight was rough. Micky instantly fell back into his chair, and Mike glared at him from across the plane, knowing exactly that Micky was planning on joining him and silently scolding him for it.

So Micky sat back, shooting glances at his Texan lover to ensure that Mike was okay, until the turbulence passed. When Micky could see Mike visibly relax, Micky relaxed too - but only a little. Maybe Mike was right, and this trip wasn't going to be as easy as he first thought.

It was all systems go once they landed in New York. After quickly checking into the hotel, the band had a couple of meetings and a brief interview which took them into the evening. It had been a long day, and everyone was spent, so they all ended up retiring to their rooms for an early night ahead of another busy day tomorrow.

The following day was another tough day for Micky. The band had press engagements all day long, and Micky and Mike didn't find themselves alone even once. Micky tried to sneak Mike a loving glance when everyone's backs were turned, but Mike wouldn't even look him in the eye. Mike was giving absolutely nothing away, and Micky was feeling a little frustrated.

The group were now backstage in the venue ahead of the night's concert. They'd had a successful day of interviews with local newspapers and radio stations, and the sound check earlier on had gone smoothly. Micky, Mike and Davy were in their dressing room, and the three of them were itching to get on stage.

"I forgot how annoying this part is." Davy sighed, pacing the room. "This waiting around is rubbish."

Micky looked at his watch. "We've still got an hour to go." He said, jittering nervously. "Man, it feels like forever since we've done this."

"I just hope people still give a shit about us, to be honest." Davy added.

"It's a full house tonight, ain't it?" Mike asked, casually strumming his guitar to keep himself relaxed.

"Yeah but it don't mean they won't think we're shit." Davy sighed.

"Don't say that!" Micky gasped.

Mike glared at Davy, sensing Micky's nerves and feeling annoyed that Davy was adding to them. "It'll be fine." He said sternly.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Davy conceded. "Sorry, I'm just itching to get out there."

"I'm just glad people still want to see us." Micky said thoughtfully. "We have to put on a really great show tonight, guys."

Davy nodded in agreement. "Sound check went well. I think we'll be alright."

"We'll be fine." Mike said once more, still strumming his guitar and appearing cool and calm. On the inside though, he was just as anxious as the others - he just did a better job at hiding it.

"I'm going to call Linda," Davy announced. "I said I'd give her a bell before we go on. Back in a sec."

Micky nodded, and Davy left the room in search of a phone. As soon as the door was closed behind him, Micky hopped up from where he was sitting and plopped himself down next to Mike on the couch.

Micky lightly jabbed Mike in the arm. "Hello." He said with a smile.

Mike shifted a little, putting a little space between himself and Micky. "Hi." He said coolly.

Micky touched Mike's arm gently. "Can I kiss you?" Micky asked. He tilted his head to the side and looked at Mike with puppy-dog eyes.

Mike quickly pulled his arm away from Micky's touch. "Are you crazy?" He asked in a stern, hushed tone.

Micky looked disappointed. "But I've hardly seen you." He said sadly.

"You've been with me all day." Mike hit back, scooting further down the couch away from Micky.

"You know that's not what I mean." Micky said, his eyes narrowing. "We haven't had any time together."

"Anyone could walk through that door at any second." Mike warned, shooting a nervous glance towards the door.

"Well can we see each other tonight?" Micky asked.

Mike shifted awkwardly in his seat. "You know we're having drinks after the show."

"Well after that then." Micky pressed. "I can come to your room."

"I don't know, Micky." Mike said bluntly, feeling stressed out that they were even having this conversation when someone could walk in at any moment.

Micky wore an annoyed expression, and he stood up, returning to where he'd sat before, slumping down and folding his arms.

Mike looked at his lover, and it was obvious that Micky was far from pleased. "Don't be like that." Mike sighed.

Micky simply looked at the Texan.

Mike was irked that Micky was annoyed with him, and he went back to strumming his guitar. "You knew it had to be like this." He said quietly, his tone a little frosty.

"Yeah..." Micky muttered. He leaned forward, grabbed his drumsticks off the table and started drumming the arm of his chair.

Mike shot a glance at his curly-haired boy, and he rolled his eyes at Micky's obvious displeasure. "It's barely been two days. You better start gettin' used to it." He said, focussing on his guitar.

Mike heard Micky sigh. Mike looked up at Micky again to see his brows knitted together, a frustrated look on Micky's boyish face. Mike couldn't help but think Micky looked adorable, even when clearly annoyed, but there was no way Mike was giving into the slightly younger man. This was the way it had to be, and Micky needed to get used to it.

"I miss you, that's all." Micky said quietly, his tone both irritated and sad.

Mike closed his eyes, sighing deeply. "I do too. But it's only been a day, Micky."

Micky looked up, and he stopped drumming the arm of his chair. "Sorry." He said in a small voice.

Mike thawed, and he gave his partner a little smile.

"It's hard being around you and not being able to kiss you or touch you or tell you that I love you." Micky continued.

Mike tensed up once more, looking nervously towards the door. There was already noise pulsing through the venue, as their support act for the night was already playing their set, and Mike was nervous that someone would burst through the door without hearing their approach.

"We can't talk about this here." Mike said quietly, his palms feeling a little sweaty. The words left his mouth a little blunter than intended.

Micky didn't say anything, he just looked away and went back to drumming the arm of his chair.

* * *

The show was a success. After a slightly shaky start, the band soon got into the swing of things and once they had relaxed they put on a great show that the audience clearly loved. The hotel had closed off their bar to the public, so it was only the band, the crew and their management that were having a private party to celebrate the start of their new summer tour.

A few hours had passed and the drinks were flowing. Everyone was enjoying themselves, still buzzing from the great show earlier on. Everyone apart from Mike, that was. Mike was getting increasingly uncomfortable with Micky's behaviour. Micky hadn't done anything wrong, but he was drinking a _lot_, and it made Mike nervous. With every sip of alcohol that passed Micky's lips, he seemed to get louder and louder, talk more and more, and appear to have less and less control over what was coming out of his mouth.

Mike was nervous. The more Micky drunk, the more nervous Mike became, wondering if Micky was going to accidently spill their little secret there and then in front of everyone. Mike felt like he was sitting on broken glass, his breath almost permanently held in fear of Micky spilling the beans.

Mike knew Micky would never do anything on purpose, but that was beside the point; Micky had a big mouth at the best of times, let alone when he was close to being wasted. Mike felt even worse when Micky sat down beside him, right up close to him in the booth, leaving very little space between them. Micky sometimes gave Mike a goofy smile too, and Mike felt himself get hot under the collar in fear of anyone reading too much into these little moments.

Mike was paranoid, and he admitted that to himself. Mike felt like everyone was watching him and Micky, as if everyone was waiting for them to slip up. The rational side of Mike's brain told him that was complete rubbish, but he couldn't help but feel concerned. Scared, actually. Mike felt _scared_. One wrong move to raise someone's suspicions and the cat could be out of the bag for good.

As the time passed, Mike did try to enjoy himself - but it was pointless. Mike was getting irritated by Micky's carefree attitude, and at about 1:30am Mike decided enough was enough.

"Right, I'm goin' to bed." Mike said, standing up.

Micky leapt up next to him. "Nooo! Don't go yet." Micky protested, poking his bottom lip out.

Mike felt the heat rise in his face as Micky gave him a disappointed look. The moment got even worse when Micky flung his arm around Mike's shoulder. "Stay a little longer." Micky slurred, pulling Mike close.

On the inside, Mike was filled with panic, but he managed to maintain a calm exterior as he carefully removed Micky's arm from his shoulder. "No. I'm tired."

"Don't forget, do what you want in the morning as long as you're ready by 12:30. The car will be here to collect you then." Bobby, the group's assistant, reminded Mike.

"I don't think it's me who's gonna forget, do you?" Mike asked, trying to ignore Micky's pouty face that was staring at him.

"See ya tomorrow, Mike." Davy called.

Mike nodded, refusing the even look at Micky again, and he swiftly exited the bar and went upstairs to his room on the 5th floor.

Mike was now stressed out and angry. Nobody appeared to bat an eyelid at Micky's little display, because that was Micky being Micky, but Mike was far from pleased with how the night had turned out. Mike was angry that Micky didn't seem to have any worries in the world; Micky was more than happy to ask for a kiss in a dressing room with an unlocked door that anyone could walk into at any second, or get himself so drunk that he had no control over what he was doing or saying. Micky didn't care, and that wound Mike up more than anything.

Mike laid awake in bed thinking about his reckless partner. Was he being too hard on Micky? Was he overreacting? Or were his feelings and fears justified? Mike had no idea. All he knew was that he had an overwhelming urge to protect what he and Micky had, and more than anything else, Mike had an overwhelming urge to protect Micky.

* * *

It took a few moments for Mike to process what he was hearing. Mike managed to force his eyes open, suddenly remembering where he was. Everything was a bit blurry - Mike had no clue what the time was, or how long he'd been asleep. Mike blinked hard a few times, his mind starting to click into gear after being so rudely awoken by that awful knocking sound-

A knocking sound. Knocking. On the door. Someone was_ knocking on the door_. Mike became awake enough to process what was going on, and he more or less leapt out of bed, hurrying towards the door as the knocking got louder and louder.

Mike opened the door to find Micky standing outside, a drunken grin spreading over his face as he laid eyes on the Texan.

"Hey you." Micky grinned, swaying on the spot.

Mike was furious, and he poked his head out of the door, looking both ways down the hallway to make sure the coast was clear. Mike then grabbed Micky by the scruff of his shirt and pulled him into the room, hastily closing the door behind him.

"What the hell are you playing at?!" Mike asked, his voice hushed but his tone angry.

Micky flung his arms around Mike's neck. "I wa-wanted to see you." He slurred.

Mike was aghast, and he pushed Micky away from him, storming further into his room and running his fingers through his hair. He turned to look at Micky, who was now standing there looking totally confused.

"You can't go bangin' on my door in the middle of the night, are you tryin' to wake up the whole hotel?!" Mike asked, trying to keep as quiet as possible which was hard when he was so angry.

Micky's face fell. "But-But there's no one else on the floor." He frowned.

"What about Davy?!" Mike questioned, his face scrunched up in disbelief at Micky's recklessness. "Jesus Micky, when are you gonna damn-well grow up?"

Micky looked like a puppy who'd been scolded for peeing on the carpet. "I'm sorry." He said. "I wanted to see you."

"Yeah, so you said." Mike hit back.

"I don't know- I don't know why you're getting so angry with me." Micky slurred, his voice quite loud in his drunken state. "Like it's a-a crime to want to see you."

"Will you keep your voice down?" Mike asked, striding forward and glaring at his lover. "Are you tryin' to get us busted already? We've only been here a day for Christ's sakes!"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Micky asked, his voice quieter this time, but a stupid look still plastered on his face as he failed to understand why Mike was so irritated.

Mike was almost at a loss for words, and he put both hands to his face, rubbing his eyes and taking a deep breath as he tried to keep his cool.

"Don't be mad, baby." Micky said, reaching out to touch Mike. "I've missed you today. And yesterday and-and all the days."

Mike pulled his face out of his hands, and he stared at his partner in dismay. "Do you seriously not get it, Micky?" He asked. Micky stared at him blankly. "You can't go knocking on my door in the middle of the night! What if Davy heard ya, or someone else? What if they asked you what the hell you were doing?"

"I dunno." Micky shrugged. "I'd tell them that I'd got the wrong room or I was playing around or-or something."

"And what about downstairs, huh? You putting your arm around me, asking me not to leave? What was that all about, Micky?" Mike snapped.

"I didn't do anything wrong." Micky said in his defence. "You're just being dramat-dramatic. The only person who cares about that shit is you, it's just you."

Mike shook his head, turning his back on Micky and rubbing his face with his hand. Mike had no idea how to handle Micky like this, and he felt like he was using all his strength not to grab Micky by the shoulders and shake some sense into him.

After a few seconds, Mike felt a pair of arms snake around his waist from behind, and some soft lips press against the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry." Micky breathed, causing the hairs on the back of Mike's neck to stand on end. "I've been bad... Let me make it up to you."

Mike closed his eyes as Micky's lips touched his skin once more, but Mike opted to think with his brain instead of his crotch, and he quickly wriggled out of Micky's grasp.

"_No_, Micky." Mike said, his voice hard as he faced his lover once more. "You can't just behave like that and expect to get away with it."

Micky wore that puppy-dog look again, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at Mike in disappointment. "But-"

"No buts." Mike warned. "I want you to leave. Now."

Micky stepped forward, reaching out for Mike once more. "Can't I stay with you?" He asked, his voice soft and high. "I'm here now."

"No. Go back to your room, sober up and get some fuckin' sleep." Mike spat. "And while you're at it, how about trying to learn some god-damn responsibility?"

Micky stood there for a few moments just staring sadly at the Texan. He finally hung his head and stumbled towards the door. Mike followed his boy, ensuring that he left. Mike let Micky out into the hallway, and Mike poked his head out once more, checking both ways to make sure nobody was around. He then watched as Micky slowly and solemnly walked the short distance to his own room, and once Mike was satisfied that Micky was safely inside, he shut the door and took a deep breath, part from relief that Micky had got away unseen, and part from the stress that Micky was already beginning to cause him.


	4. Chapter 4

The following morning, Mike had gotten himself dressed a couple of hours before, and although he was tempted to head out and explore the city, he wasn't particularly in the mood and opted to stay in his hotel room until the group were due to have more press engagements that afternoon.

Mike laid on his bed fully clothed, contemplating the previous night. Mike was still angry with Micky, but at the same time he missed him. Mike wondered if he'd been hard on his boy, but at the same time he reminded himself _why_ he was being hard on him; and that was to ensure that their relationship didn't get sprung so nothing could come between them.

At about 11am, Mike heard a gentle tapping on the door. He climbed off the bed, assuming it was probably a maid ignoring the 'Do Not Disturb' sign, and made his way to the door. Mike opened the door to find Micky.

"Hi." Micky said nervously, an awkward smile on his face.

Mike stood there frostily, surprised that Micky was even up at this hour.

"Can I come in?" Micky asked. He looked both ways down the corridor. "There's no one about."

Mike paused for a moment before stepping aside, letting Micky into his room.

"I'm sorry about last night." Micky said nervously as the two of them walked towards Mike's bed.

Mike didn't say anything, he just simply sat himself down at the foot of the bed, looking up at Micky with a cool face.

Micky looked genuinely nervous and uncomfortable. "I shouldn't have banged on your door like that. That was really stupid."

"Yeah, it was." Mike said bluntly.

"But even if someone heard me, it's not a big deal." Micky said in his defence. "Do you remember that time me and Davy got drunk in that hotel and ended up knocking on everyone's doors, on the whole entire floor? It was really stupid, but we were just fooling around."

Mike was annoyed that Micky was trying to defend his actions. "That's hardly the same thing." He said.

"No, but... but even if someone found me in your room, or saw me knocking on your door, it doesn't mean they'd suspect anything." Micky continued. "Me and Peter used to go to each other's rooms all the time on tour and get high. One morning a maid even walked in on me and Pete crashed out on his bed, and she didn't care. She didn't assume we were fucking each other just because we were in the same room at night."

"Do you think this is a joke?" Mike snapped, slightly infuriated.

"What- no, of course I don't." Micky hit back, he too clearly getting agitated. "But it's true. Do you really think if Davy heard me knocking on your door at night, he would just assume we're a couple? Or would he think that I was just being a drunken idiot?

Mike knew Micky had a point, and he looked away.

"You know I'm right." Micky said knowingly.

Mike's head snapped up. "And I know that last night you acted like a damn child. When are you going to grow up, Micky?"

"And when are you doing to realise not everyone is out to get us?" Micky hit back, shocking Mike. "Jesus, it's as if you think everyone is watching us under a microscope, studying our every move. You're so damn paranoid."

Mike was shocked by Micky's words, and he rose to his feet. "I'm paranoid because if what we have gets out, we're finished. Don't you understand that?"

Mike and Micky stood face to face, and Micky stared into his partners eyes, trying to hold his ground. Eventually, Micky's shoulders slumped, and he looked to the floor.

"I'm sorry..." Micky muttered. He lifted his eyes to meet the Texan's. "I'm really sorry. I was stupid and drunk, and I should've been more careful. I shouldn't have hammered on your door."

"It ain't just that, it was when we were downstairs too." Mike said. "You putting your arm around me, askin' me not to leave. How do you think that looks, Micky?"

"I think it looks like me being me." Micky said, surely, his head tilting to the side. He gave Mike a firm look. "Come on, Mike. That's what I do. I do shit like that all the time, to everyone - not just you. I'm pretty sure I even kissed Henry on the cheek last night... I don't even remember why. But you know what I'm like, and nobody thought what I did was weird."

Again, Mike realised Micky had a point, but it was still hard for him to accept. "You don't know that..." He tried to argue.

"Yes, I do." Micky pushed gently. "Nobody has any reason to suspect there's anything going on between us. I know you're scared of people finding out, and I'm scared too. But seriously babe, if I changed who I am completely that's the only reason people will think something isn't normal."

"But I don't like it, Micky." Mike blurted out. "A part of me doesn't want you anywhere near me when we're around other people. And I know that's stupid, I know that's just me being a paranoid freak, but that's how I feel."

Micky looked surprised by Mike's admission, although he was unsure why. He nodded his head slowly, seeming to understand, and he looked to the floor.

Mike stared at his partner, feeling a mixture of emotions inside. "Why do I always end up feelin' like the bad guy?" Mike asked.

Micky looked up.

"You don't seem to grasp that even when I'm gettin' mad _at_ you, I'm doing it _for_ you." Mike admitted. He sighed deeply, giving in to his emotions, and he run his fingers through his hair. "Stupid boy..."

Micky's face was now soft, and he looked at Mike sympathetically. Micky stepped even close to Mike, and he lightly touched the Texan's hair. "I'm really sorry... I need to use my head more. I'd never do anything to freak you out or make you angry or whatever... not on purpose, anyway."

Mike looked up, locking eyes with his boy in front of him. He sighed deeply.

"I stuffed up..." Micky admitted. "You were right about everything, about us needing to be careful... I guess this is just harder than I thought."

"We only left home 48 hours ago." Mike said, his voice softer this time. "We have two whole months of this, Mick."

"I know." Micky nodded. "And I'll behave myself better, I promise."

Mike stared at his partner, a little unsure at first, but when Micky gave Mike a warm smile, Mike gave in.

"I love you." Micky whispered, gently wrapping his arms around Mike's neck.

Mike instantly tensed up in Micky's arms, and Micky sensed Mike's discomfort right away.

"What's the matter?" Micky asked, pulling back to look at the Texan.

Mike's face had turned hard again, and he looked deeply uncomfortable.

"Baby... no one is here." Micky assured him, sensing Mike's fears. "It's just us. The door is shut, the sign is outside... We're all alone."

"It feels weird." Mike said quietly, almost shyly, breaking eye contact with Micky.

Mike and Micky had never been together anywhere other than their houses. They had never kissed or touched or cuddled or even spoken about their relationship outside of their 'bubble', and even though Mike knew Micky was right - that they were safely locked away in a hotel room with just the two of them - Mike felt uncomfortable. He felt exposed. He felt _scared_.

Micky gently touched Mike's cheek before leaning forward and pressing a small kiss to Mike's forehead. "No one can touch us in here. It's just us."

Micky's words were soothing and kind, and Mike lifted his head to meet Micky's gaze. He took in a nervous breath, reaching out to touch Micky's curly hair. It was weird, because it felt like they'd spent ages apart even though they had been around each other more or less constantly for the past 48 hours.

Micky continued to watch his partner closely, waiting for Mike to relax completely. Micky leaned forward again, pressing a small kiss just beside Mike's mouth. Mike closed his eyes, and he slowly wrapped his arms around Micky's slender frame, and he pulled the slightly shorter man close into a hug.

Micky wrapped his arms around the Texan, burying his face in the crook of Mike's neck. He run his hand up and down Mike's back, soothingly, and Micky felt Mike thaw in his arms.

"I love you too, Mick." Mike sighed into Micky's shoulder.

Micky pulled back, and he run his fingers through Mike's sweep of dark hair. "Can I kiss you now?" He asked quietly.

Mike gave a small nod of the head, and Micky slowly pressed his lips to Mike's, kissing the Texan softly.

Mike felt himself melt into the kiss, and he pulled Micky closer, realising just how much he'd missed those sweet lips. Two days, that's all it had been, since they had last kissed, and yet for some stupid reason it felt like a lifetime ago.

Micky broke the kiss, and he smiled at his partner lovingly. "I'll be more understanding in future, I promise."

"It's okay..." Mike said quietly, stroking Micky's curly hair. "But this is the way it's gotta be, and I really do need to know that you can deal with that."

"I can." Micky nodded, looking confident. "But we need to make time for each other, too."

"Yeah... but we'll talk about it beforehand, okay?" Mike asked. "I can't have you banging on my door in the night again. We can't risk it, Mick."

"No... I know, I'm sorry about that, seriously. It won't happen again." Micky said regretfully. "Maybe we could get spare keys for our rooms, so we can let ourselves in? No knocking necessary."

Mike smiled weakly, still a little nervous about how they were going to handle everything in the coming weeks. "Yeah, maybe."

* * *

A few weeks into the tour, Mike had managed to relax enough for he and Micky to spend some time together, albeit not often, and not for very long. Mike did allow Micky to come to his hotel room some nights, and other nights he went to Micky's. Mike wasn't relaxed enough, however, for he and Micky to do any more than kiss and cuddle.

The group had an afternoon off before their show that coming evening. Davy was out with some of the others on a sight-seeing tour of the city, but Mike and Micky had made their excuses so they could steal a couple of hours alone together at the hotel.

Micky had been getting more and more sexually frustrated as the tour went on, and he was desperate for he and Mike to get intimate after all these weeks of doing nothing more than just making-out. Micky was hoping (more like praying) that he and Mike would take things further today. Mike and Micky had been kissing, fully-clothed, on the bed in Micky's room for several minutes, and Micky decided to take things up a notch by sliding his hand down to Mike's crotch and groping the Texan through his tight jeans.

Mike immediately removed his lips from Micky's, and he gave his slightly younger lover a disapproving look.

"What?" Micky asked innocently, although he knew full well what Mike's problem was.

"You know what." Mike said, raising his eyebrows.

Micky groaned, flopping back on the bed. "Come on, Mike. It's been _weeks_."

Mike visibly tensed up. "Well it ain't like it's been months." He said in his defence.

Micky lifted his head. "Aren't you horny?" He asked.

Mike looked a little uncomfortable and shrugged his shoulders.

Micky flopped his head back down again, rubbing his face in frustration. "I don't get what your problem is. Why is it okay for us to kiss and cuddle but not to do anything else?"

"What if someone walked in on us, Micky?" Mike questioned. "We could leap off the bed pretty damn quick doin' what we were doin' just now. But we'd have a hell of a lot of explaining to do if someone burst in on us naked in bed together."

"Oh my _god_, how many times do we have to go through this?" Micky groaned, covering his face with his hands. "Nobody is going to bust us! How would anyone get in? The door is locked!"

"The hotel staff have keys though, don't they?" Mike hit back, and Micky looked at the Texan to see him looking a little guilty.

"That's what the 'Do Not Disturb' signs are for." Micky said, sitting up. "Do you have any idea how many girls I used to fuck in hotels on tour?"

Mike looked horribly uncomfortable at the thought.

"A_ lot_." Micky continued. "A lot of girls. And the only time someone walked in on me was- well, it was when they were invited to join us..."

"I don't want to hear about that." Mike said sternly.

"Well I'm only telling you so you learn to chill out a bit." Micky said. "These are top hotels, babe. They're not going to have their staff barging in people's rooms uninvited all the time."

Mike sat there pondering what Micky had said.

"And _you_ might not be horny, but_ I_ am. I'm going out of my mind here, man." Micky sighed. "It's so unsatisfying to jerk off knowing I have a hot guy who I should be able to have sex with whenever I want."

Mike's head snapped up in surprise. "You've been jerking off?" He asked.

"Well yeah, of course I have." Micky shrugged. "Haven't you?"

"No." Mike replied.

"You're telling me you haven't jerked off once since we've been away?" Micky questioned, narrowing his eyes.

"No, I just told you I ain't." Mike replied a little defensively.

Micky smirked. "Well I have. A _lot_. Because I fear I might explode if I don't."

Mike didn't say anything, he just simply sat on the bed looking a little uncomfortable.

"What's the matter, don't you like the thought of me getting myself off?" Micky asked, a devilish glint in his eye. "I mean, I need to get my kicks somehow if you're not going to give them to me."

Mike remained silent, and Micky could tell that the Texan was feeling a little hot under the collar.

"I don't watch porn or anything," Micky continued. "I touch myself and think about you."

Micky saw Mike suck in a sharp breath.

"I touch myself and imagine it's you touching me..." Micky said, his voice deliberately a little breathy. "And I think about how good you make me feel. How hot you make me feel. Sometimes I don't even really need to touch myself; sometimes just the thought of you fucking me is enough to make me com-"

"Stop." Mike choked out, and Micky heard his partner gulp.

Micky smirked, moving closer to the tall, dark Texan. "What's the matter, baby?" He whispered seductively, wrapping his arm around Mike's shoulder and leaning into his ear. "Don't be modest. You know what you do to me."

Mike took a deep breath in, trying so hard to resist Micky.

"I know what I do to you, too." Micky whispered, planting a tiny kiss behind Mike's ear and feeling the older man shiver in response. "And I can do s_o much more_ than this..."

Before Micky knew what was happening, he was on his back, pinned to the bed with Mike hovering over him. Mike's eyes were dark and filled with lust, and his handsome face was flushed red. Micky felt such a rush inside, a rush of excitement, of arousal, and also a rush of satisfaction that he'd finally made Mike crack.

"You're trouble." Mike breathed heavily, gazing down at Micky from under heavy-lidded eyes.

"You love it." Micky smirked.

Mike kissed Micky fiercely, pawing at the man underneath him, desperate to remove Micky of his clothes. Micky was the same with Mike, and it wasn't long before they had discarded of the unwanted garments, and the pair were naked under the covers, kissing passionately.

"I have lube." Micky announced breathlessly, breaking their kiss. "I put it in the nightstand just in case."

Mike leaned over the side of the bed, pulling open the draw in the nightstand and grabbing the lubricant that was waiting for him inside.

"You knew you'd break me, didn't ya, boy?" Mike asked as he squeezed some lube into his hand, his voice low and breathless.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to resist me for much longer." Micky said with a devilish grin.

"Turn over." Mike ordered.

Micky happily obliged, rolling onto his stomach. He suddenly tensed up both in nerves and anticipation, knowing that this would hurt a little after more than 3 weeks of no sex. Micky then felt two well lubed fingers slide inside of him and he closed his eyes, willing himself to relax and enjoy what was going to come.

When Mike was satisfied with his preparation, he removed his fingers from Micky and lubed up his painful erection. Micky laid there patiently as he felt Mike's weight on top of him, and some gentle lips press against the back of his neck.

"I'll be gentle." Mike whispered lovingly.

"Not for too long, I hope." Micky said into the pillow, his breathing already heavy.

Micky could sense Mike was smiling. "You're a bad boy." Mike said, and Micky then felt a pair of soft lips kiss his naked shoulder.

Soon though, it wasn't Mike's lips Micky could feel, but Mike's enormous erection pressing against his entrance. Micky gripped hold of the pillow, his breath already ragged and his tension building. And then he felt Mike slide inside of him, and he was overwhelmed with the most wonderful pain he could ever feel.

Mike was gentle, moving slow until he could feel Micky relax around him. It didn't take long for Micky's body to get used to Mike being inside of him again, and he let out a moan of pleasure as Mike pushed all the way inside.

Mike slowly rocked back and forth, and Micky could hear Mike's delicious breathing from above - that sexy sound that drove Micky wild, so quiet, so assured, so strong and masculine. Those gorgeous breathy little moans of pleasure that were music to Micky's ears. It felt like an eternity since Micky had heard that noise from Mike in anything other than his dreams.

Micky was so wrapped up in the incredible sensations that were floating through his body, and so wrapped up in listening to Mike's gorgeous sounds, that he'd failed to notice his own moans of pleasure were getting louder and louder. Micky pressed his face into the pillow in an attempt to stifle the noise from escaping his body.

It was good. It was _so good_. Actually, it was even better than Micky remembered. If someone told Micky right now that he'd have to wait another three weeks to feel this good again, he feared he might die. Micky wanted to scream. He wanted to scream out in pleasure and let the planet know how good he was feeling. All Micky could do though, was press his face hard into the pillow, gripping it tightly in his fists.

Mike started to move faster now, changing the angle of his thrusts and moving so fast that his balls started to slap against Micky's perfectly pert backside. Micky tried to reach beneath him to get hold of his own erection that was squashed between himself and the mattress, but suddenly Micky felt himself be flipped over onto his back, and there he saw Mike's gorgeous, flushed and sweaty face staring down at him with hunger and need.

Mike laid on top of Micky, kissing him deeply. Micky's head was in spin, and it only spun faster when Mike's hand latched onto his erection and started to pump Micky hard and fast.

"Ohhh _fuck_." Micky groaned, his head pressing hard into the pillow.

Micky was again so wrapped up in his pleasure that he hadn't even felt Mike move off of him, and suddenly Micky's eyes snapped open when he felt his hard-on get sucked into Mike's wet, hot mouth.

"Jesus!" Micky shouted, bucking his hips involuntarily.

One of Micky's hands grabbed hold of Mike's thick dark hair, while the other hand fisted the sheets underneath him. Micky bit his lip in an attempt to hold back his cries of pleasure, but Mike was giving such a first-class blow job that it was hard for Micky to contain himself.

Mike bobbed his head, sucking Micky deep into his mouth. Mike's tongue swirled around Micky's shaft before poking out as far as it would go to lick Micky's tight balls. Micky let out a loud moan of ecstasy, and a part of his brain managed to function enough for him to fear scaring Mike off with his loud moans of pleasure. Micky reached out beside him and grabbed hold of the pillow from the other side of the bed, and he held it over his face to drown out his moans.

Mike continued his treatment of Micky, sucking his curly-haired partner as far into his mouth as he could go. Micky continued to groan and buck his hips, and he already felt his orgasm rapidly approaching. Mike's mouth, lips and tongue were all too good, and Micky ended up spilling into Mike's mouth before he'd managed to give the Texan any warning.

Micky heard Mike splutter a little, but Mike had had enough experience sucking Micky off by now to handle a surprise ejaculation. Mike continued to suck Micky until he was soft, and when Micky felt Mike remove his mouth, that's when he emerged from underneath the pillow that had been covering his face.

Micky regained focus, and he stared at Mike who was now hovering over him.

"I wanted to scream your name so bad." Micky gasped, trying to catch his breath.

Mike smiled at his lover before immediately pressing his lips against Micky's. Micky wrapped his arms around the Texan's neck, and he could taste himself on Mike's tongue. Mike then guided Micky's knees up, pushing them up so he could position himself at Micky's entrance once more. Mike wasted no time in filling his lover once more, pushing deep inside and thrusting vigorously as he started to ride the road to his own climax.

Now that Micky was satisfied, he could concentrate on satisfying Mike. Micky squeezed his legs tight around Mike's waist, and he started moving his hips, pushing himself even harder onto Mike's cock. Micky studied his partner's face as Mike started to pound into him, and Micky loved watching the look of concentration written all over the Texan's face. Mike closed his eyes now, the occasional grunt falling from his delicious lips. Micky started to clench his inner muscles around Mike, and Mike tilted his head back, a low moan escaping him.

"Fuck, Mick..." Mike groaned quietly.

Micky lifted his head so that he was only a couple of inches away from Mike's ear. "Come for me, Michael." He whispered.

Mike's thrusts were erratic now, and he started to pound into Micky so hard that the headboard of the bed started to slam against the wall. Micky gripped hold of Mike's shoulders tightly, letting out a few moans of his own as Mike's body shuddered and jolted, his orgasm hitting him hard.

Mike spilled everything he had deep inside of Micky's eager body. A few more thrusts and Mike was totally spent, and he flopped down on top of Micky in a sweaty, exhausted mess.

Micky smiled in satisfaction, Mike's weight pressed on top of him. Micky could feel Mike's heart pounding through his chest, and he kissed Mike's shoulder lovingly.

Mike lifted his head. He didn't speak; he simply run his fingers through Micky's mass of curls before kissing his lover deeply. Micky sighed contently into the kiss, his hands slowly moving up and down Mike's sweat-covered back.

Mike broke the kiss before carefully pulling out of Micky and rolling onto his back. Micky turned onto his side to face the Texan.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Micky asked, a satisfied smirk on his face.

Mike turned his head to look at Micky. "You're such a bad influence on me."

Micky smirked, moving closer to Mike and draping his arm over the Texan's chest. "Mmm..." He purred.

Mike wrapped his arms around Micky, pulling him close. "That was amazin'." Mike sighed, trying to catch his breath.

"Let's not wait three weeks to do that again, please." Micky said eagerly.

Mike smiled. "No... I don't think I could wait that long, either." He agreed.

Micky lifted his head, smiling down at his lover and drawing little circles on Mike's chest. "I love you."

"I love you too, darlin'." Mike beamed, pressing his hand to the side of Micky's face.

"How about once we get our breath back, we go for round two?" Micky asked, a hopeful glint in his eye. "That went a little quick, and now I've got you into bed at last, I want to make the most of you..."

Mike smirked. "Naughty boy." He whispered, pulling Micky into a passionate kiss.

The couple kissed slowly, eagerly, passionately, trying to make the most of their time together. After about 20 seconds of kissing, they were snapped out of their moment by a knock on the door.

Micky and Mike froze, their lips still joined but their eyes snapping open. Another knock, a little louder this time, and the two of them broke their kiss. Micky's heart leapt into his throat, and he could visibly see Mike's do the same.

"Who the hell is that?" Mike whispered as quiet as humanly possible, but even through his whisper his voice had a sting to its tail.

"My eye-sight is bad enough as it is without being able to see around corners and through walls." Micky replied, frustrated that their moment had been interrupted.

The door knocked again, only this time it was followed by a voice.

"Micky? Are you in there?"

_Davy_.

"I'm just coming!" Micky called back without thinking, infuriating Mike.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Mike growled under his breath as Micky scrambled from off the top of him and jumped out of bed.

"Well it might be something important," Micky begun, grabbing his jeans from the floor and hurriedly pulling them on. "He might find it weird if he goes off and can't find you either."

Mike leapt out of bed, gathering his clothes from the floor. He looked nothing short of mortified.

"Don't worry, just hide in the bathroom." Micky whispered as he zipped up his jeans. "I'll tell him I was taking a nap."

Mike looked furious. He hurried into the bathroom, his clothes bunched up in his arms, and he glared at Micky. "Get rid of him." He ordered, his voice low and dark.

The door knocked again. "Micky?!" Davy called through, clearly getting impatient.

"Just a second!" Micky called back.

Micky smiled awkwardly at Mike before closing the door between them. Micky then rushed to the door to the room and opened it to find his English band mate waiting for him.

"Bloody hell, what took you so long?" Davy asked, pushing into the room before Micky had a chance to respond.

"I was taking a nap." Micky replied, his voice a little breathless as he felt nerves bubble in his stomach. He followed Davy into the room. "What do you want?"

Davy ended up just in front of the un-made bed that Micky and Mike had been screwing in just minutes before. "Two birds just chased me through the street!" He exclaimed.

Micky blinked hard, nervously glancing at the bathroom door. "Do you actually mean _birds_, or do you mean women?" He questioned.

"Women! Girls!" Davy said, his voice a little raised. "I thought those days were over, man, but I was just walkin' along, minding me own business and all that, and then all I hear is; "Davy! Davy!" and before I know it, they're running at me, all lip-gloss and heels, you know? And they can't be any more than 15 years old, but they were scary, runnin' straight at me, little ol' me all on my tod. And all I could do was run, man, just run back to the hotel. I thought they were gonna eat me alive."

Micky stared at Davy blankly, processing what he said. "Well what happened to the others? The sight-seeing trip?"

"Oh, that was boring," Davy replied, sitting on the edge of Micky's bed. "I thought I'd go off on my own and do a bit of shopping - big mistake. So now I'm bored and I wondered if you wanted to hang out."

"O-Oh." Micky stammered, lying not being one of his strong points. "Well, uh, now's not a very good time, Davy..."

"Why not?" Davy questioned, standing up again with an eyebrow raised. "I thought you were just having a nap?"

Micky stared at Davy blankly, trying to figure out what to say next. His heart was pounding in his chest, knowing that there was just a bathroom door between Davy finding out about his and Mike's not-so-little secret.

Davy observed the room and clearly picked up on the un-made bed, and he then turned to Micky's half-naked state. Davy then snorted, cracking up, and he put his hand over his mouth. "Oh shit, have you got a girl in here?" He asked in a whisper, giggling as he did so.

Micky felt the heat rise in his face, but he realised it wasn't a bad story to go along with. "Uh, yeah... yeah, I have." Micky replied.

"Shit!" Davy giggled, slapping Micky on the arm playfully. "I'm so sorry, man. Where is she?"

"She's in the bathroom." Micky replied, feeling a rush of both nerves and adrenaline. Davy turned to look at the bathroom door, and Micky suddenly felt panicked that Davy would just barge in there. "But don't go in there!" He said quickly, causing Davy to look at him with a puzzled expression. "She's uh, she's really shy."

"Shy? That don't sound like your type, mate." Davy replied. "But I'm hardly gonna go in there, am I? What do you take me for?"

"Yeah... Sorry." Micky scratched his head awkwardly.

"So who is she? Is she the bird you were chattin' to in the bar last night?" Davy questioned.

"Uh, yeah, yeah - that's her." Micky nodded, trying to look confident.

"Oh, nice one, man. She was a right looker, she was." Davy said.

Micky was wondering why Davy wasn't taking the hint and leaving.

"Yeah... Well, we were kinda in the middle of something, so uh, if you don't mind, uh-"

Davy finally caught on. "Oh! Yeah, of course, no worries." Davy turned, walking back towards the door. Micky followed him, wanting to escort him out.

"Thanks, man." Micky said as Davy opened the door, stepping out into the corridor.

"You dirty dog, you." Davy said on the hush, punching Micky playfully on the arm. Micky laughed awkwardly. "It's good you're back in the saddle again, mate. It feels like ages since I've since you with a girl, since you split up with Samantha anyway."

"Yup... well, I guess it's time to move on." Micky smiled, now desperate to get rid of Davy.

"Well have fun." Davy winked, and he chuckled to himself as he turned to leave.

Micky closed the door behind Davy, and he leaned up against it, breathing a sigh of relief. Micky's nerves mainly stemmed by how annoyed Mike would surely have been being shut away in the bathroom so close to getting caught out. Micky took a deep breath, himself personally finding it all a little amusing, and he walked back into the room to tell Mike that the coast was clear.

Micky gently tapped on the bathroom door before opening it to find Mike, now fully clothed, standing there with a face like thunder.

"He's gone." Micky announced a little sheepishly.

Mike stormed back into the bedroom. "Why the hell did you tell him you had a girl in here?"

"What was I meant to say? "No, Davy, I don't have a _girl_ in here, but I have a man. About 6ft 2, dark hair, Texan... you remember Mike, don't you?" - I can see that going down real well." Micky replied, letting out a little laugh.

Mike looked furious. "Do you think this is a fucking joke?" He snapped.

"Hey, relax." Micky stressed, holding his hands out, gesturing for Mike to calm down. "It's all cool, Davy doesn't suspect anything. He knew something was going on, it'd look weird if I tried to lie about it."

Mike stared at Micky seriously, his fury seeming to waver slightly. Mike then slumped down on the bed, putting his face in his hands.

"Hey, come on." Micky said softly, sitting down beside the stressed-out Texan. "It's fine. He has no reason to suspect anything."

"You shouldn't have let him in here." Mike said into his hands.

"I thought it could've been important. And then what if he went off and couldn't find you either?" Micky said. "You're the one who always says we need to keep everyone sweet so they don't suspect anything."

Mike sighed into his hands.

"Just the other day everyone was asking me about why I don't seem to pick up any girls anymore. At least now this gets them off my back for a while." Micky went on.

Mike rubbed his face before looking up at Micky with sad eyes.

"Please don't stress." Micky said, wrapping his arm around Mike and rubbing his back. "No harm has been done."

"But what if he walked in the bathroom, huh?" Mike wondered. "What then?"

"He wouldn't have done that." Micky said, tilting his head to the side. "Come on, babe. Everything is fine. You worry too much."

"Well one of us needs to worry..." Mike muttered quietly to himself.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Micky asked. He stared at Mike, confused by that comment.

"Forget it." Mike replied.

Micky decided to ignore that comment for now, so he leaned in and kissed Mike on the cheek. "Let's forget about Davy. Why don't we pick up from where we left off?"

"You want us to have sex again _now_?" Mike questioned, looking totally perplexed.

"Well we were gonna before we were interrupted." Micky said, pulling away from Mike enough so he could look at him. "And he's gone now, so what's the big deal?"

Mike took a slow, steady breath, as if he was trying to keep himself calm. He slowly rose to his feet and took a few steps away from the bed. Micky watched him curiously, wondering when his Texan lover was going to stop being so uptight.

Micky sighed, feeling a little defeated. A part of him completely understood Mike's fears, but on the other hand Micky felt that Mike took things too hard and too seriously, and it frustrated him no end.

"Fine." Micky sighed. "We don't have to go back to bed. But will you at least stay here with me so we can hang out?"

Mike looked thoughtful, as if he was facing some inner battle. He finally conceded. "Alright. I'll stay for a while longer."

"Good." Micky replied.

Micky also stood up, and he wrapped his arms around Mike, pulling him into a gentle hug. "Please don't worry so much." He whispered softly.

Mike didn't reply; he just hugged Micky back.


	5. Chapter 5

Another week into the tour, and the group were now in Chicago where they would be spending the next two days. The tour had continued to go well, although Mike and Micky weren't getting to spend a great deal of time together. Mike continued to be uptight and guarded, but Micky had learned to accept the Texan's apprehension and tried not to pressure him into doing anything he wasn't comfortable with.

Mike, Micky and Davy were once again backstage killing time before a show. The three of them were playing cards before they were interrupted by an assistant, telling Micky that there was a phone call for him. A couple of minutes later, Micky returned to the dressing room wearing a confused expression.

"Who was on the phone?" Davy asked as Micky re-entered the room.

"It was Samantha." Micky replied in a puzzled tone, sitting himself back down.

"Oh yeah? What did she want?" Davy wondered.

"She's here in Chicago. She wants to see me." Micky scratched his head.

Mike looked up from the magazine that he'd picked up after Micky had left the room.

"Hold up, she came all this way just to see you?" Davy asked.

"Well no, her friend Mindy moved here when we were together," Micky begun. "So she's here visiting her, and she thought seeing as we're in the same city at the same time, we should meet up. She said she wants to talk to me... but we haven't even spoken since we broke up."

"Well she blatantly wants to get back with you, doesn't she?" Davy said.

Mike noticed Micky looked a little panicked at that suggestion. "But she knows I don't want a relationship with her." Micky said, flustered. "I told her that when we broke up."

"Why else would she want to see you?" Davy went on. "I don't get why you ditched her in the first place."

"I'm not into her like that, that's all." Micky replied a little defensively. "She's a great girl, but... but I just don't want to be in a relationship right now."

"Maybe she just wants to say there's no hard feelings." Mike finally added, and Micky's head turned to look at him. "You said you wanted to be friends with her, didn't ya?"

"Well, yeah... but I literally haven't seen or heard from her since we broke up. That was two months ago now." Micky said, clearly a little rattled. "Do you really think that's it, that she just wants to see me as a friend?"

Mike didn't really believe that was the case, but Micky looked pretty worked up about it. "Did you say you'd see her, then?" He asked, avoiding the question.

"Well I couldn't say no," Micky said. "I told her that we have the day off tomorrow so she's coming to meet me at the hotel. I figured after what happened I owe her that at least."

"I tell ya, she wants to get back with you." Davy said, looking so sure of himself. Mike was annoyed that Davy seemed to be getting Micky more and more het-up. "You should give it another go, mate. She's a smashing lass, she is."

"I know she is, but-" Micky cut himself off, clearly not knowing how to respond to that. "I'm just not into her."

"How can you not be into her? She's really fit, she's funny, and she's English which, you know, is a real added bonus, because us English lot are clearly the best." Davy joked with a grin. Micky simply looked at him, un-amused. "Look, maybe it's not that at all. Maybe she does just wanna be mates. But you know, you need to be prepared for her wanting to get back with you. I know if an ex has ever called me out of the blue, it's rarely been for a little innocent chit-chat, you know what I mean?"

Micky sighed. "Yeah, I know what you mean." He conceded. "I'm just so shit at deep and meaningfuls. I don't want to have to hurt her all over again."

"Well you don't know that you will." Mike said, not really wanting to add much to the conversation, but he felt like he had to. "There ain't no point stressin' about it."

"No... yeah, I know." Micky sighed. "I guess I'll have to see what happens. I mean, she did sound kinda- I don't know, _weird_, on the phone. Like she was nervous or something. Fuck..."

"Look, if you don't wanna be with her then just give it to her straight." Davy said. "Or, give it to her straight and _then_ say you don't want to be with her, if you know what I mean."

Davy winked and started laughing. Mike glared at Davy, noticing that Micky was looking at him in horror. "I'm not doing that!" Micky gasped.

"Alright, chill out - I was only messing, weren't I?" Davy said. "Seriously, it'll be fine. Don't worry about it."

* * *

The following afternoon, Mike was taking a walk on his own, trying to occupy himself on the bands afternoon off. He knew Micky was with Samantha at the hotel right now, and he couldn't help but be a little concerned with how their conversation might be going. Micky had seemed to relax about the idea of seeing his ex girlfriend, but Mike also knew what a people pleaser Micky was; letting people down or knocking someone back was certainly something Micky struggled with, and Mike could only hope that if Samantha did want to get back with her ex, she wasn't giving Micky a hard time about it.

Mike wasn't sure how long he'd been walking around, but he found himself approaching the back of the hotel once more. From where he was standing, he saw Samantha exit the hotel via the back entrance that the band usually used to avoid the view of the main street. Mike stood just out of view, not wanting Sam to spot him and have to have an awkward conversation about how Micky didn't want to rekindle their romance.

From where Mike was standing, he couldn't tell whether Samantha was happy, sad, or just plain ordinary, but he suddenly had a real urge to find out exactly what had gone down between her and Micky just now. Once Samantha had jumped into a car; he wasn't sure if it was her friend's car, or a cab - Mike headed into the hotel and up to Micky's room.

Mike had a spare key for Micky's room; Micky had requested two, telling reception he needed one for a special 'guest'. Mike knocked gently on Micky's door to announce his arrival, before letting himself inside to find Micky perched on the end of his bed staring into space.

Mike walked in slowly, and it took a while for Micky to even notice he wasn't alone; Micky looked vacant - his eyes were wide, and he looked almost as if he was in some sort of daze.

"I saw Samantha leave." Mike said quietly, his head tilted to the side as he looked at his partner with a little concern. "I thought I'd see how things went."

Micky managed to snap himself out of his trance, and he looked up at Mike with what looked like desperation in his almond shaped eyes. Mike felt a rush or worry, wondering why Micky looked so troubled. Surely his confrontation with Samantha couldn't have been that bad? Another thought instantly entered Mike's brain, and now the worry inside was replaced with panic: Mike feared that Micky may have cracked under pressure and told Samantha the _real_ reason why they couldn't be together.

Mike gulped, not wanting to accuse Micky of spilling their secret without evidence.

"What did she want?" Mike asked calmly, though inside he was hideously anxious. "Did she want to get back with ya?"

Micky nodded slowly. "Yeah." He replied.

Mike's breath got caught in his throat. "Did you tell her about us?"

"W-What?" Micky asked, clearly shocked by the question. He blinked hard. "No. No, of course I didn't."

Mike breathed a sigh of relief, and he felt his whole body relax. "Well what on earth is wrong then, Mick?" He asked a lot gentler this time.

Micky stood up, rubbing his face with his hands. He looked utterly stressed out, and Mike was totally confused by his lover's reaction.

"I didn't know what to say. I don't even know what I said. I just- I just freaked out. What am I supposed to do? I didn't want to hurt her. I _don't_ want to hurt her. But what am I meant to do now? What am I meant to do?" Micky spoke quickly, and he was now pacing backwards and forwards.

Mike was bewildered. "Micky, what are you talkin' about?"

Micky paused, looking up at Mike with a panicked expression. "She's pregnant." He announced.

Mike felt like he'd been hit by a train. He froze, unable to process what he'd just heard. "What?" He asked in a whisper of disbelief and anger, his eyes widening.

"She's pregnant. She- she's three months pregnant, and- and-"

"Micky!" Mike's voice raised slightly, and he rubbed his head with his hand. "How the hell did you let this happen?!"

"_Me_?! Are you seriously going to give_ me_ a lecture on unplanned pregnancies? _Seriously_?" Micky asked, his voice too rising in volume and pitch.

Mike rubbed his face. "I'm sorry," He said, taking a deep breath. He held out his hand to Micky. "I'm sorry."

Micky slumped back down on the bed again, and Mike instantly sat himself beside his distressed partner.

"I don't know what to do." Micky groaned, losing his hand in the curls on top of his head. He looked like he wanted to tear his hair out.

Mike took a deep breath, clearly able to see how mortified Micky looked at the situation, and realising he needed to be calm and strong for his troubled partner.

"Okay." Mike said, taking another deep breath, getting himself straight. "Is she absolutely _sure_ she's pregnant? Has she seen a doctor?"

Micky nodded. "Yeah... she's known for a while, apparently. She was just trying to find the right time to tell me." He replied.

"And is she totally sure that, you know, that the baby is yours..?" Mike cringed a little at the question, but he knew it was one that had to be asked.

Micky turned to look at Mike, and he wore the same awkward expression as Mike. He nodded his head. "I even asked her that... I can't believe I did that. I asked her straight out if she knew for sure the baby was mine. You should've seen her face... she looked horrified. She thought I was accusing her of being a slut or something."

Micky pinched the top of his nose between his finger and thumb, horribly stressed out by the situation. Mike awkwardly wrapped his arm around Micky's back, rubbing it gently.

"It was a fair question to ask." Mike said quietly, trying to reassure Micky. "You did break up a couple of months ago."

Micky put both hands to his face, and he rubbed his eyes hard. He emerged from his hands, looking at Mike as if he was searching for answers. "She wants us to get back together. She wants us to be a proper family and- and... I didn't know what to say. I don't know what to do."

Micky still stared at Mike as if he was expecting the Texan to give him all the answers and make everything okay again. Mike's heart broke seeing Micky so distressed, so confused and so conflicted.

Mike took a deep breath. "What do you want to do, Micky?" He asked gently.

"I want to be with you." Micky whimpered. "I love you. I don't want to be with her, but I don't want to hurt her, I- I don't want people to think I'm an asshole."

Mike tilted his head to the side, wishing there was something he could do to make it right. "But you want to support her? Her and the baby?"

Micky nodded. "I think so. I mean... I don't know. I don't know anything about babies or anything like that. But I'd never let her do it on her own, I mean- I'll be there. If she wants me to, that is. I'll support them. Not just with money and stuff, but with _me_."

"Then as long as you tell her that, then..." Mike trailed off. He was going to say; "then everything will be fine." - but he wasn't so sure about that. Micky continued to watch Mike, wondering what he was going to say next. "Then," Mike continued, "That's all you can do."

Micky looked thoughtful, trying to absorb everything. "What if she hates me? I don't want her to think I'm the kind of guy that knocks up a girl and doesn't even care."

Mike broke eye contact with Micky. He dropped the hand that was resting on Micky's back, and he stared at the floor. Micky's words had hit a nerve, but Mike wasn't angry; Micky was better than him, and that was no new news.

"Mike..." Micky whispered, clearly realising his error. "I'm so sorry. I know how that must've sounded and- fuck."

Mike looked up. Micky was now leaning forward, his face in his hands once more. Mike's hand returned to Micky's back, and he rubbed it gently. "It's okay, baby." He said calmly. "It doesn't matter. I did make mistakes, _big_ mistakes, but you're nothin' like me. You ain't gonna do what I did."

Micky looked up. "I don't know what I'm doing." He whispered.

Mike reached up, gently brushing a stray curl out of Micky's face. "What was the last thing you said to Sam? When are you going to see her next?"

"I think I said I'd see her tomorrow. She wrote down a number to contact her on here in Chicago and, uh, I think that was it." Micky replied. "She was really cool about it... she said I needed time to process what she'd told me. And all I could say was that I needed to think about it, but what's there to think about? I don't love her. I love you. There's nothing else to think about."

Mike looked down. He was silent for a few moments before he spoke again. "If you decided you wanted to be with her, to give this a chance... I wouldn't stand in your way. I'd let you go. I'd never speak of what we have, or- or what we _had_."

When Micky didn't answer, Mike looked up. Micky was just staring at him, his eyebrows knitted together in a frown - he looked awfully sad. Micky shook his head in an almost childlike fashion, his mouth downturned and his eyes filled with sorrow. "How can you even say that?" He asked, his voice soft and quiet.

Mike run his fingers through Micky's hair once more. "I want you to be happy." He said.

"I _am_ happy. I'm happy with_ you_." Micky said, almost pleading. "I don't want to be with Samantha or anyone else. I don't want anything to change. I just want to be with you."

Mike nodded slowly, accepting Micky's response. He sucked a deep breath in. "Then tomorrow you explain. You explain that you will be there for her, no matter what, and that you'll be a good dad even if you ain't together as a couple. You'll go to the doctor's appointments, you'll support her financially, and you'll be there every step of the way. Just 'cause you ain't married don't mean you can't be a good father. I know I've made mistakes with my kids in the past, but I'm there for 'em now and by god I would die for them. And you're gonna be just the same, Mick. You just have to be strong. She might think that you marryin' her now will be the right thing, but in a few years time she'll know that it was a mistake. I know - I've been there. Tell her to ask my wife."

Micky looked like a child who'd been thrown in the deep-end of the swimming pool, but Mike knew it was time for Micky to truly stand up and be a man.

"You can do this, Mick. And that's not to say it's gonna be easy, because it ain't. But I'm gonna help ya, every step of the way, just like you're gonna help Samantha. You got that?" Mike asked.

Micky swallowed hard, nodding his head. "I think so." He said in a small voice.

Mike placed his hand on the side of Micky's face, stroking it firmly with his thumb. "Good boy." He said.

* * *

To say Micky was tense was an understatement. The sound check later that day hadn't exactly gone smoothly, and Micky's vocals and playing were all over the place just like his head. Davy and the rest of the crew were aware of his meeting with Samantha, although he hadn't shared the not so minor detail about his ex-girlfriend's pregnancy just yet.

Unfortunately for Micky and the rest of the band, the show that night didn't go much better than the sound check. Micky's head was so mashed that he'd even forgotten the lyrics to a couple of songs so Mike and Davy had to awkwardly fill in for him on a couple of occasions. Micky's usual lively, wise-cracking stage persona was nowhere to be seen, either, and the whole show fell a little flat. The crowd still cheered and screamed and didn't seem to notice too much; but the rest of the group did, and Micky faced a little telling off from the bands tour manager when they came off stage, being told that he needed to "get a grip" and not take personal issues on to the stage with him.

While Mike was completely understanding, and even tried to cover for Micky at one point, Davy wasn't at all sympathetic, and when the three of them returned to their dressing room after leaving the stage, Davy decided to give his band mate what-for.

"I know you had a row with Samantha or whatever the hell happened, but you can't let it affect our performance!" Davy snapped, shirtless, with a towel slung around his neck. "The crowd may not have noticed but our critics will! We've been getting rave reviews this tour and I don't want it getting stuffed up because of you!"

"Give it a rest, Davy." Mike sighed, trying hard not to snap at the agitated Englishman.

"I said I was sorry." Micky said, slumping down in a chair and running his hands through his hair. "I've got a lot on my mind."

Davy shook his head in disbelief. "What the hell happened today that's affecting you like this? I know it's not nice having to knock someone back but bloody hell, Micky! The way you're reacting is ridiculous."

"She's pregnant, okay?" Micky snapped. "She's having a baby, _my_ baby. So now do you see why I'm so stressed out?"

Mike was slightly annoyed that Micky had decided to share his news so soon, but at the same time he realised Micky clearly needed to get Davy off his back.

"Holy shit." Davy responded, his eyes widening. He sat down on a chair next to Micky. "That's why she wanted to see you?"

"Yeah, that's why." Micky sighed. "So she _does_ want us to get back together. She wants us to be a family."

"And you are gonna get back with her, aren't you?" Davy questioned.

Micky looked at Davy for a moment before looking away. "I don't love her..." He said quietly.

"So? She's having your kid." Davy looked totally confused. "You're a single guy, so what's the problem?"

Micky's head snapped in Davy's direction. "Didn't you hear me? I don't love her."

"But she's having your baby!" Davy repeated, and Mike rolled his eyes in frustration. "Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"What- of course it means something to me!" Micky snapped. "You think just because I'm not going to take her down the aisle that means I don't give a shit?"

"I don't get why you don't just marry her though." Davy clearly wasn't going to let this lie. "Surely that'd be the right thing to do."

"The right thing for who?" Micky questioned. "If I was in love with her, of course I'd marry her! But I'm not. I've told you a million times; I'm not into her like that."

"But you were into her enough to knock her up in the first place!" Davy said, raising his voice. "Can't you see how this is going to look? I don't want our band to look like a bunch of love-rats!"

"Right, that's enough." Mike snapped, rising to his feet. He was unable to keep quiet any longer. "Give him a break, for Christ's sakes."

Davy stood up, facing Mike. "Oh, I wondered when you'd chip in." He spat. "You might think it's okay to go around impregnating women and then pretending your child doesn't exist, but I don't!"

Mike took a step forward, infuriated by the short man in front of him, but Micky quickly stood between them.

"Please don't." Micky said, holding a hand up to both of his band mates, signalling for them to 'stop'.

"I'm sorry man, but I think you're making a terrible mistake." Davy said, sitting back down again, clearly realising he'd pushed it too far. "You're a single guy, it's not like you're seeing anyone else. I just think it'd be easier if you married her. Or even if you don't marry her, just get back with her."

"He's already said he don't wanna be with her." Mike snapped without thinking.

Davy looked at Mike with confusion, and when Mike turned to look at Micky, his partner was staring at him with a look of concern. For the first time, it was _Mike's_ actions and words instead of Micky's that could possibly raise eyebrows.

Mike took a deep breath, suddenly feeling hot under the collar. "I just mean that it's his decision, Davy. Not yours. You can see what a state he's in, and you sure as hell ain't helping."

Davy sighed. "We're just getting things back on track, building our fan base again. I don't want any bad press to stuff this up for us."

"Is that all you care about?" Mike swiped.

"Will you two just stop?" Micky asked, his fingers rubbing his temple as if he had a splitting headache. "Davy, I don't want bad press either, okay? But what am I meant to do? Marry a girl I don't want to be with just to please a few teen magazines? Just because it'll make our band look good?"

Davy now sat in silence, staring at the floor.

"Right now I have bigger things to think about than offending a few stupid fans who don't know shit about the real world." Micky went on. "Like having to figure out how the hell I'm supposed to face Samantha tomorrow knowing that I can't tell her what she wants to hear."

"But you two were so good together." Davy said, softening slightly. "You'd make a great little family."

Davy's words stung Mike. They stung like salt in a paper cut. Mike had been wrapped up in Micky's fears of letting down Samantha, but now the reality dawned on Mike; Micky was going to be a father. _His_ Micky. His boy, who until now had only Mike, was now going to have something else. _Someone_ else. Someone to please, to dote on, to devote himself to. The most precious gift of all; a child. A baby. _Micky's_ baby. A baby that Micky would adore. That Micky would do anything for, the way Mike would do anything for his children, and the way Mike would do anything for Micky. Micky, the people pleaser who didn't like letting people down, would now be a _parent_, responsible for a new little life.

It was hard enough for Mike being in a relationship with a man. Mike having _children_ while being in a relationship with a man made it even harder. But Mike had been a parent for several years now; he knew how to be a dad, even if he didn't believe he was always a very good one. But now Micky was going to go on this journey, and this new baby was another chink in the chain. It was another spanner in the works. It was yet another hurdle for them to jump.

Every single day Mike blocked out the potential harm his relationship with Micky could have on his children. Mike had learnt to live with the risk, to _deal_ with the risk, but now he realised that Micky was going to have to learn to live with it too. If Samantha found out the_ real_ reason why Micky didn't want to be with her, Micky might never get to meet his baby, let alone be a dad. What would happen then?

When Mike finally emerged from his thoughts, Davy and Micky were still talking; Mike just had no idea what had been said.

"...financially, and I'm still going to be there for her." Micky carried on saying, Mike feeling like he'd just entered the room in the middle of a conversation. "She won't have to do anything on her own... that's if she lets me be involved, that is."

"Well if you're sure that's the way you want to play it." Davy conceded with a sigh. "Congratulations, I guess."

Micky smiled awkwardly, almost painfully. "Thanks... I think." He scratched his head. "I've never been more scared in my life."

"_Neither have I_." Mike thought.


	6. Chapter 6

Mike didn't spend the night with Micky, as Micky said he needed to be alone to think about what he was going to say to Samantha. Micky had arranged to meet his pregnant ex, and the following morning he went to visit her at her friend's house just out of the city.

It was painful, for both Micky and Samantha, and when Micky returned to the hotel, he felt like a broken man. He went straight to Mike's room, hoping to seek comfort in his Texan partner.

"How did it go?" Mike asked gently, letting Micky into the room.

Micky was silent as he walked into Mike's room. He sat himself at the end of the bed, running his hands through his hair.

"It was horrible." Micky responded, Mike watching over him. "It was like when we broke up, only a thousand times worse. I feel like such a bad person."

"Hey, don't say that." Mike said, sitting down next to the curly-haired man.

Micky looked up at his partner. "I told her that I'd be there for her, that I'd stick by her... but she didn't get it. She didn't get why I didn't want to be with her. She couldn't understand why we can't just be a family."

Mike hung his head sadly.

"So I had to tell her," Micky continued. Mike's head snapped up, a look of horror on his face. "Not about _us_... not exactly, anyway, but I had to give her something. I told her I couldn't be with her because I was in love with someone else. I didn't say I was seeing anyone, just that I was totally hung up on someone. It's as close to the truth as I could get."

Mike sighed sadly, clearly relieved that Micky hadn't told the whole truth. "And how did she take it?"

"How do you think she took it?" Micky questioned, his head a mess. "She was crushed, man, totally crushed. She thinks I'm an asshole."

"Come on, Mick..." Mike said gently. "You did the right thing; you were honest with her. You told her that you'd be there for her, didn't ya?"

"For all the good it did." Micky sighed. "She thinks I'm just going to forget about her, to forget about both of them."

"When the tours over, and things have calmed down a little, you can discuss things properly." Mike said thoughtfully. "Right now her head is a mess, but it won't be forever, not when she realises you're serious about stickin' by her."

Micky shook his head slowly. "Everyone is gonna hate me." He said quietly.

"That ain't true." Mike said firmly. "You could be runnin' a mile in the opposite direction, you could tell her you want nothing to do with her or the baby. But you ain't. You ain't doing that. You're doing the honest thing, the _right_ thing, and she'll realise that soon enough. Seriously, Micky."

Micky rested his head on Mike's shoulder as the Texan slid his arm around Micky's waist. "I feel rotten." Micky whispered.

Mike kissed the curls on top of Micky's head. "I know you do, baby. But you ain't rotten, Mick. You're amazing and I love you."

All Micky could do was sigh sadly.

* * *

This certainly wasn't the best day for Micky to feel so down about himself, seeing as the group had interviews all afternoon. Thankfully they didn't have a show that night, but Micky was far from his usual cheerful self, and the interviews and photo shoots were a little painful. Mike and Davy worked hard to compensate for their troubled band mate, but by the end of the day Micky was ready to let the ground swallow him whole.

Instead though, Micky was persuaded to go to a club just down the road from their hotel to enjoy their last night in Chicago. Micky was far from being in the partying mood, and even a few beers couldn't cheer him up. The rest of their crew were semi-aware of what was going on with the usually happy Micky, so they knew to tread carefully. Things only went from bad to worse when a group of three men started hassling what appeared to be a male couple at the bar.

It had started when this small group of friends were sat on the table next to where Micky, Mike, Davy and some of the others were sitting. Micky had overheard the men make some homophobic remarks in direction of these two guys at the bar - a feminine looking man, and a slightly older one, who appeared to be romantically involved, even though they weren't being overly affectionate towards each other. Micky had overheard the words "fags" and "homos", and he'd tried to ignore it the best he could. But as the night went on, the comments got louder and more frequent.

It all came to a head when the group of guys started shouting remarks across the bar to the gay couple. The men were openly laughing and mocking the innocent couple, who were simply standing at the bar minding their own business.

"I didn't see a sign that said queers were allowed in this joint." One of the men shouted across to the couple, laughing as he did so.

Micky stared at the group of guys - they looked so smug, so pleased with themselves, laughing and joking, pointing at the couple as if they were something they had stepped in. Micky felt his heart sink and his blood boil, and that's when he felt Mike's eyes burning into him.

Micky looked at Mike from across the table. "Someone should say something." Micky said, clearly agitated.

"Nah, best to stay out of it." Davy said, sipping his beer.

"Why?" Micky asked. "Those guys are being fucking jerks."

"Leave it, Micky." Mike said, narrowing his eyes.

"Why should we leave it?" Micky said, looking around the bar. There were a few awkward looks in the direction of the group of men, but nobody was doing - or saying - anything about it. "Why is nobody saying anything? Why is everyone just cool with what they're doing?"

"Micky, relax, will you?" Davy asked, clearly confused by why Micky was reacting the way he was. "There's nothing anyone can say to guys like that. They'll just carry on being dicks anyway, so it's best to just keep your head down."

"It's a fucking joke." Micky snapped, knocking back the rest of his beer.

"Hey, bartender!" Another of the men shouted to the guy behind the bar. "Make sure you wash your hands after serving those queers, we don't want to catch whatever they've got."

His friends laughed like it was the funniest thing they'd ever heard. The bartended rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed, but he didn't say anything and just carried on what he was doing.

"How can that bartender just ignore that?" Micky asked, and the rest of the table were now starting to look at Micky, wondering why he was getting so worked up. "Why aren't they getting chucked out of the club?!"

"Micky," Mike said, his voice low, almost warning. "Don't."

"Fuck this." Micky said, and he pushed his chair back aggressively and rose to his feet.

Davy, who was sitting beside Micky, quickly stood up. He grabbed hold of Micky's arm, sensing that his friend was about to storm over to the group of guys and give them what-for.

"Seriously Micky, just ignore them." Davy said. "You won't stop them from acting like that, you'll just get dragged into their shit. Or get your arse kicked. Either way, it won't help matters."

Micky glanced at Mike. Mike just sat there, staring at Micky with eyes that were pleading with him not to cause a scene. Micky then turned back to Davy, who was giving him a knowing look.

"Just leave it, man." Davy said, his grip on Micky's arm firm. "I know you're worked up about Samantha but seriously, getting into a bar-fight with those arseholes isn't going to help anything."

"Whatever." Micky shrugged Davy off of him. "I'm going back to the hotel."

Micky stormed off in direction of the exit. He passed the bar where the group of homophobic men stood, still laughing and joking like they didn't have a care in the world. Micky wanted so much to say something to those guys, to tell them to shut the fuck up, but at the same time he knew Davy was right; it wouldn't help, and it wouldn't change anything. So Micky grit his teeth and walked straight past them, approaching the couple who were the victims of the ridiculous remarks. They seemed nothing more than irked by it, but Micky admired their strength to ignore these men, to not rise to the bait and to carry on with their evening as if the abuse wasn't even happening. The two men glanced at Micky as he passed them; Micky wasn't sure whether it was because they recognised him or what, but Micky gave them a small smile. And the two men - a very pretty looking man with bleach-blond hair, and a slightly older, exotic looking dark haired man - smiled back. Micky almost felt like his heart could break; that could so easily be him and Mike.

* * *

Mike stayed at the club for a couple of hours longer - but only out of politeness. Or in actuality, it was more because of his paranoia, and wanting to avoid people thinking it was 'odd' that both he and Micky took off so soon. So Mike stayed, forced a smile, and tried to will the time away until it seemed an acceptable point in the evening to leave.

From the moment Micky had left, Mike had used every muscle in his body to stop himself from following his troubled partner out. Mike was worried about Micky; Micky's mood had been low enough worrying about his pregnant ex-girlfriend without having to listen to homophobic comments all night long. Although the comments clearly weren't aimed at Micky, Mike knew from the moment they started to overhear those idiots talking the way they were that Micky would be affected by it.

So Mike headed back to the hotel. He went to his room first to freshen up before going to Micky's room next door. Mike still had his key, and he quietly let himself into Micky's room. Mike hoped that Micky was in there and hadn't gone off to some other bar to get wasted on his own, and as soon as Mike opened the door he was relieved to hear the TV.

When Mike entered the room he found Micky lying upside-down on his bed, his head hanging off the bottom watching the TV upside-down. When Mike observed the room he noticed Micky had taken advantage of the mini bar, and there was a half-empty bottle of scotch on the side.

"Oh Micky." Mike sighed, looking at his drunken lover.

Micky hadn't even realised Mike was in the room, and his eyes fixed on the Texan upon hearing him talk. Micky then turned himself around on the bed - which seemed a bit of a struggle - and sat upright, wincing a little as he did so, as if he'd gone dizzy.

"Hi." Micky said, pulling his legs so he sat cross-legged, and he swayed on the spot.

Mike picked up the half-empty bottle of alcohol. "You think you're gonna find all the answers at the bottom of a bottle of scotch, huh?" He asked, slightly annoyed.

Micky shrugged, "It makes me feel better."

"No it don't. 'Cause in the mornin' your problems will still be here, but you'll just have a hangover to go with 'em." Mike said, setting the bottle down and turning off the TV. "So this is why you come back here, huh? To get drunk on your own?"

"If you're gonna lecture me then you can just- you can just go." Micky said, waving his hand dramatically. "Because I don't need it. I don't need any of this shit."

Mike sighed. He perched himself on the edge of Micky's bed and looked at his troubled lover - it had been ages since he'd seen Micky in such an emotional state. "Micky..." Mike sighed again. "Those guys in the club... you can't let people like that get to ya."

"We should've said something, we should've done something to stop them." Micky slurred. "It's not fair. It's- it's not. They're such fucking assholes, I fucking hate them."

"I know, Mick. But there's nothing anyone can do with people like that." Mike said gently. "There're jerks like that everywhere. I wish there weren't, but that's the way it is. You just got to ignore them."

"How can you not care?" Micky asked, staring at Mike.

Micky looked so troubled and so unhappy. Mike could only smile sadly. "Of course I care, Micky." He replied.

Micky stared ahead. "Every- everything is so fucking unfair." He said, his voice dripping with bitterness. "How is it fair that- that guys like that can say whatever they want, but me and you- me and you, we have to hide. We have to hide like we're doing something wrong. Like- like we can't even be honest with our friends and our family and everyone. And we have to lie. And I can't even tell Samantha the truth, I can't even tell her why I can't be with her. I can't tell her it's because I'm in love and I'm happy and I never meant to hurt her. And I fucking- I fucking hate the lying. I fucking hate all these lies."

Mike hadn't heard Micky speak like this before, although he wasn't surprised by it; in Mike's head, it had always only been a matter of time before their secret got on top of Micky.

"And I feel like a bad person." Micky continued. "I feel- I feel so mean and horrible. And everyone's going to think I'm an asshole. What will my mom think? I'm gonna- I'm gonna have a kid. She should be happy be-because she's gonna be a grandma. But she won't be happy because it's fucked up. She'll be ashamed of me."

"No she won't, Micky." Mike said softly, swinging his legs onto the bed so he was closer to Micky. "I told you before; you're doing the right thing. I know it's a mess now but I promise it won't be like this forever. Things are always complicated and nothin' is ever perfect, but you'll be fine. Samantha will be okay, too. And when you explain to everyone that even though you and Sammy ain't together, you're still gonna be a good dad and you're gonna be there for your baby, it'll be alright. You gotta believe me, Mick."

Micky had stared at Mike as he spoke. Mike gazed at his troubled boy, knowing that Micky was drunk and self-pitying, and praying he wouldn't feel so bad in the morning.

"How can I be a good dad?" Micky slurred. "I don't- I don't know how to be a dad. I don't even _have_ a dad. My dad is gone. My dad is gone forever, but I wish he was here."

Micky stared ahead, at nothing in particular. He now looked sadder than ever. "I wish my dad was here." He said in a small voice.

Mike closed his eyes, sighing sadly. "I know you do, Mick..." He said quietly.

"Actually I don't." Micky went on, his voice turning from incredibly sad to bitter instead. "Because he'd probably be embarrassed. Embarrassed that his son is a- his son is a fag."

Mike's head snapped up. "Don't you dare say that, Micky." He snapped. "Don't you fucking dare. You dad would be proud of you."

Micky looked at Mike again. He looked embarrassed, and he hung his head.

Mike rubbed his face with his hands, taking a deep breath. "You're drunk. You're tired, you've had a long, stressful day, and you've gotten yourself worked up into a real state." He said firmly.

Micky turned his head away from Mike. "I'm fine." He said.

Mike rolled his eyes. "No, you ain't fine. You're far from_ fine_, Micky." He said. "But you_ will_ be fine. Once you've gotten some sleep you'll be okay. You've had a big couple of days; you've got some big news to deal with."

"And you- you think I'm weak and can't handle it." Micky slurred, looking irritated.

Mike took a deep breath. "No, Micky." He said, blowing the breath out, trying to keep his cool. "That ain't what I think. But I also think it's pointless talkin' to ya when you're in this mess."

Micky was silent, still looking away from Mike. Mike watched his boy for a few moments before Micky turned to face him again. "I'm sorry." He said, hanging his head.

Mike smiled sympathetically. "You got nothing to be sorry for, Mick." He said, wrapping his arm around Micky's shoulder. "You're just drunk, baby. You need some sleep."

Micky looked up at the Texan. "Will you stay with me?" He asked, his almond-shaped eyes wide in hope.

Mike smiled softly. "'Course I will, darling." He replied, pressing his lips to Micky's forehead.

Mike laid down, guiding Micky down with him. Micky cuddled up to Mike, resting his head on Mike's chest. Mike held Micky close, and within a matter of moments, Micky was fast asleep. Mike sighed, glad that his boy was settled and hoping that he was falling into some sweet dreams. Mike hated seeing Micky so worked up, and even though Mike knew that alcohol had a part to play in Micky's self-pitying tonight, the seed was still there to begin with. Those guys in the bar were real, and Samantha and the baby were real. Mike certainly didn't think Micky was weak, but was he strong enough to deal with all of this?

* * *

Micky's eyes flickered open the following morning. He had a headache, and his mouth tasted like death, but he could've felt a hell of a lot worse. Micky stretched out, some hazy memories of the previous night coming back to him. Micky's vision was blurry so he rubbed his eyes, sitting himself up. When Micky opened his eyes with full focus, he saw Mike sitting on the edge of the bed watching him.

"Morning." Mike smiled.

Micky blinked hard; Mike's face was a treat for sore eyes. "Hi." He replied a little groggily.

"Here," Mike said, handing Micky a glass of water.

Micky took the water and wasted no time in gulping it down, appreciating the way the cold water felt as it slipped down his dry throat. Micky set the glass on the nightstand and looked back at his Texan lover. "Thanks." He said, smiling awkwardly.

"How are you feeling?" Mike asked.

"Hungover." Micky replied, a little laugh to follow. Mike simply looked at him. "Did you stay with me all night? I don't remember falling asleep."

"Yeah, I stayed with ya." Mike replied. "And once you settled down, you were out like a light."

Micky tried to piece together the memories of the previous night. He cringed a little. "I'm guessing I got all self-pitying, huh?"

Mike smiled sympathetically, nodding his head. "A little."

"Oh, god." Micky cringed, rubbing his head with his hand. "How attractive."

"You've got a lot on your mind, babe." Mike said in Micky's defence.

Micky emerged from his hand, a pained expression on his face. "You must think I'm so pathetic."

Mike shook his head. "No." He replied without hesitation. "I think you're scared. And I think you've got a big heart. Actually, I _know_ you've got a big heart."

Micky sighed. He stretched himself out, running his fingers through his messy-curls. "I guess you want to talk about last night."

"Well I wanna make sure you're okay," Mike begun, his eyes fixed on Micky. "Those guys in the club... you remember that, right?"

Micky nodded. "Yeah, I remember." He said, a little annoyed - though not annoyed with Mike.

"You can't let things like that affect you." Mike said. "It's tough to hear that shit, I know it is. And I know it ain't fair either, but that's life. Those guys are assholes but there's a million n' more just like them out there, and unfortunately we're gonna have to come across people like that now and then. You can't rise to it, Micky. You just got to ignore them."

"But how?" Micky asked, wondering how Mike seemed to find it so easy. "They were being so insulting, making fun of two innocent guys who just wanted to have a quiet drink. Those guys could've been us, Mike. They were just minding their own business trying to have a good time. What did they do to deserve abuse like that?"

"They didn't do anything, Micky." Mike said. "I know it's fucked up, but there's nothing anyone can do about it."

"I still think we should've done _something_." Micky said firmly. "All those people in that club and not one person stood up for them. That's fucked up."

"It's because there's nothing anyone can say." Mike went on. "Those guys... there's always gonna be idiots like them, Mick. And what do you wanna do, go up to every single one of them and tell them that they're wrong, that they're assholes, that they shouldn't be homophobic? Because it won't do anything, Micky. They'll stll be the same. People like that, they can't have sense talked into 'em. There's nothing you or I or anyone else can say that can stop them being assholes. And you just have to live with that."

Micky knew Mike was right, although he wished to god that Mike was wrong. He shook his head sadly. "It's so unfair."

"I know, but _life_ is unfair. All of this is unfair, but all we can do is make the best of it that we can, and just be thankful that it weren't us gettin' that abuse last night." Mike said.

Micky nodded slowly in agreement.

"You gotta get a tougher skin." Mike said. "I know you're sensitive and I love ya for it, but you can't let it get to you. We're better than them, that's what you got to remember. People like that, they ain't capable of love, not _real_ love. Nobody who puts down the love between others can be capable of real love themselves. That means they ain't ever gonna know what it's like to have what me and you have. And you know what, I almost pity them for that."

Micky lifted his head to look at his partner. Mike's words were assured and comforting. Mike always had a way of sounding like he knew exactly what he was talking about, and Micky felt like he believed pretty much everything that ever came out of Mike's mouth. Micky had no idea how Mike did it, but somehow the Texan always managed to make him feel better.

"But I know that last night rattled you even more because of everything else that's going on." Mike said. "And you got more important things to think about at the moment, Mick."

Micky sighed deeply, nodding his head again. "I know." He said, thinking back to his meeting with Samantha. He rubbed his brow with his fingers. "How can I prove to Sammy that I'm serious about being there for her? How can I make it so she doesn't hate me?"

"For a start, she won't hate you." Mike begun. "What you gotta remember is, she's going through this life-changing experience and she's scared, just like you are. She thinks she's gonna be alone, and what you have to do is prove to her that she ain't."

"How do I do that though?" Micky questioned.

"We got three weeks left of this tour. Once we're back home, and once she's had time to accept that you ain't getting back together, that's when you can start showing her that you're serious about this." Mike said. "You're gonna go to hospital appointments. You're gonna buy her books and baby clothes and you're gonna take an interest in everythin', and make her feel like the most special woman on the planet. You're gonna tell her that she can call you whenever she needs to. You're gonna be there for her, Mick, and you tell her every god-damn day until she gets the message."

Micky nodded slowly. "But what about everyone else? They're all going to disapprove and think I'm a selfish jerk."

"Micky, you could pretend that Samantha and the baby don't exist if you wanted to - that's what a lot of guys in your situation would do." Mike begun. "But you ain't gonna do that, because you're a good boy- a good _man -_ with a great heart who's doing the right thing. And when that baby comes, you're gonna be a good dad, and you don't need to be married to do that. You'll be amazing, Mick."

"But what do I know about babies and being a father?" Micky questioned, his head starting to spin. "I have no idea what I'm doing."

"You'll learn." Mike assured him. "You're great with kids, babe. You got three little sisters who adore you. My kids adore you too."

"Yeah but that's different." Micky sighed. "Kids like me because I give them piggy back rides and do stupid voices and impressions; they like me because I'm fun. But when it comes to the serious stuff, I'm clueless. I don't know about babies. I don't know about diapers or feeding or- or anything like that."

Mike smiled. "Nobody does at first, Micky; that's why it's called learning." He said gently. "I know it's scary now, but in six months time all of the drama and complications right now ain't gonna matter, because the only thing that's gonna matter is that little baby. _Your_ baby. And when she's here, everything will make sense."

Micky paused. "She?"

Mike looked at Micky blankly. "What?"

"You said; "when _she's_ here."" Micky replied. "You think it'll be a girl?"

Mike scratched his head. "I didn't even realise I said that. But yeah, yeah I guess I do. I mean, I don't know why. I guess I just figure you'll have a daughter."

Micky's eyes widened. He felt a rush inside that he hadn't yet felt; it was a very bizarre feeling that Micky couldn't quite place. "Wow... I haven't even thought about that, you know, about whether it'll be a boy or a girl. I haven't even thought about the baby being an _actual_ baby, like... I don't know. All I've been thinking about is Samantha and how she's feeling in all of this. I haven't even thought about the fact that there's going to be a _baby_ here in six months time. An _actual_ little _human baby_... a boy or a girl, and- holy shit."

Micky stared into space, the reality of the situation finally dawning on him. He felt scared, he felt completely terrified - but he also felt a pang of excitement in the pit of his stomach.

"Yep." Mike said, nodding his head. Micky looked up to see Mike smiling at him. "It's pretty crazy, huh?"

"How do you do it?" Micky asked in bewilderment, a little bit overcome by his realisation.

Mike laughed a little. "You just sort of do it." He said. "There ain't no way to explain what it feels like when they hand you that little one for the first time... there ain't no feeling like it."

"I guess I always figured I'd have kids someday," Micky begun thoughtfully. "But when I met you, and I realised how I felt about you, I don't know... that thought kinda faded, I guess. I suppose because I fell in love with a man, something I never expected to happen, I just never really pictured myself with kids anymore. I never thought it would happen."

Mike hung his head, twiddling his fingers slowly. Micky tilted his head to the side, looking at his Texan lover. Mike looked thoughtful, almost regretful, and Micky suddenly worried about what his partner might be thinking - or feeling.

"This doesn't change anything between us, you know." Micky said. Mike looked up. "I mean it, Mike. This changes _nothing_. I love you and I'm sticking with you no matter what. You know that, don't you?"

Mike stared at Micky, absorbing what Micky had said.

"I'm not going to suddenly decide I want to be with Samantha just because she's having my baby." Micky went on. "I love you, and I _want_ you. I know you think I get wrapped up in things, that I get carried away with things, and you're right - I do do that. You probably think I'll get wrapped up in this baby stuff too, and maybe I will. I mean, I hope I do, in a good way. But it'll never be at the expense of us. I don't want to be with Samantha or anyone else, for any reason at all. There's only one person I'm in love with and that's you, and this baby isn't going to change that."

Mike smiled weakly.

"I mean it, Mike." Micky pressed, sensing his partner's uncertainty. Micky reached out, placing his hand on top of Mike's. He narrowed his eyes, leaning in to the Texan. "This_ changes nothing_."

Mike swallowed hard before nodding his head. "Okay." He said quietly.

"You believe me?" Micky questioned.

Mike nodded. "I believe you, Mick." He said. "I just... I just want you to be happy."

"I am happy. Or at least I will be, once I've gotten Samantha sorted out." Micky sighed. "I'm happy with _you_."

Mike smiled. "You're a good boy, Micky. A good _man_. I should stop callin' you a boy, because you ain't a boy - you're a _man_. You're definitely a man. There ain't nothing that makes you more of a man than being a father."

"I'm still _your_ boy, though." Micky said in a small, almost bashful voice.

Mike smiled even more, reaching out to touch the side of Micky's face. "That you are." He said, gazing at his lover for a moment. "You're going to do a lot of growin' up over the next few months, Mick. I ain't saying you're immature, because you ain't. But there's a lot to learn and a lot to deal with, but I need you to have faith in yourself. Can you do that for me?"

Micky nodded. "I think so. I'll try to, anyway. I feel like I can deal with anything if I've got you supporting me." He said. "I know that sounds cheesy, but it's true."

Mike squeezed Micky's hand. "Well I'm here for ya, Mick. And I'm going to help you through this every step of the way."


	7. Chapter 7

The last few weeks of the tour were a bit of a blur - especially for Micky. Micky had finally got his head around his situation with Samantha and the fact that he was going to become a father, although he still had his moments where the reality scared the life out of him.

The tour had been a success, and the band and its management were all happy with how it had turned out. Everyone was exhausted and pleased to be home after two months on the road.

Micky had been to his house to unpack and freshen up after a day of travelling, and once he'd sorted himself out he went straight to Mike's house. Mike answered the door, hearing it knock, and smirked when he saw his curly-haired partner standing outside.

"Hello." Mike said with a glint in his eye.

Micky grinned, stepping into the house. "Are you alone?"

"I certainly am." Mike replied.

Micky turned, locking the door behind him, and before Mike could realise what was happening, Micky crashed his lips against the Texan's and pinned him to the wall. Micky kissed Mike fiercely, hungrily, as if he'd been starved of Mike's love for so long. Mike felt just the same, wrapping his arms around the younger man and pawing at him almost desperately.

Micky paused, breaking the kiss for a second. He stared at Mike from under heavy-lidded eyes. "I need you so bad." He said breathlessly.

Mike's hands instantly went to the bottom of Micky's t-shirt, and he hastily un-tucked it from Micky's jeans, yanking it up and over Micky's curly-head. "Get up those stairs." Mike ordered, tossing the shirt onto the floor.

Micky smirked, and he grabbed hold of Mike's hand, virtually dragging the Texan up the stairs. As soon as they had reached the top, it was Mike's turn to pounce on Micky and he pushed him against the wall, crashing their lips together once more. Micky fumbled with the buttons of Mike's shirt, desperately trying to get them undone as fast as possible. Mike's lips moved to Micky's neck and he sucked on it hard, biting down a little and causing Micky to moan.

"I like that I can be as loud as I want now." Micky purred, finally getting the last of Mike's shirt-buttons undone as Mike kissed down Micky's lightly-haired chest.

"And I'm really gonna make you moan." Mike responded, his voice low and husky, breathing heavily into Micky's skin.

Micky aggressively shoved the shirt of Mike's shoulders, and Mike shrugged the shirt off the rest of the way, letting it fall to the floor. Micky's hands then went to work on Mike's jeans, and he pushed the Texan backwards as he quickly got the flies undone.

They finally ended up in Mike's bedroom, slamming the door shut behind them. Mike shoved his pants and boxers down his legs, freeing his now raging-hard on, while Micky made work of getting rid of his own pants. Mike kissed his partner fiercely once more as Micky kicked off his slip-on shoes, and Mike pulled Micky's jeans down. Mike broke the kiss to look down; Micky wasn't wearing any underwear.

Mike smirked at his lover as Micky kicked off his jeans. Micky then attached his lips to Mike's neck this time, sucking and nibbling, moving his lips up to Mike's jaw as Mike pushed Micky towards the bed.

"I want it rough..." Micky breathed into Mike's skin.

Mike pulled back so he could look at his boy's face. Micky's eyes were dark, filled with lust and love. Mike could visibly see the desire pulsing through Micky's body, right from his eyes and down into his crotch. Mike loved it when Micky was like this. Mike happily obliged Micky's request, shoving his boy onto the bed hard.

Micky laid back, smirking hungrily at the older man who was now standing over him.

"You're a bad boy." Mike said, pausing to take in the sight of Micky sprawled on his bed.

Micky simply grinned before rolling onto his stomach and propping himself up on his hands and knees, totally offering himself to the Texan.

Mike could hardly control himself, and he virtually leapt onto the bed to join his waiting lover. Micky's ass was flawless - such a perfect target. Mike couldn't resist slapping the palm of his hand flat against that delicious buttocks, and Micky wiggled in response.

"Don't go easy on me." Micky almost begged. "I've been waiting this."

Mike shuddered, gripping hold of Micky's butt-cheeks in either hand, pulling them apart to see the most precious of openings. Mike buried his face between those cheeks, pushing his tongue into his lover and instantly hearing Micky moan in response. Micky had showered; Mike could tell. He smelt good enough to eat - like oranges - and he tasted just as good, too. Already Micky was moaning louder than Mike had heard him moan in weeks; all those nights in hotel rooms where Micky had had to hold himself back, to contain that beautiful voice from letting out noises that would most certainly be heard on the floors below and above.

Now though, there was nothing stopping Micky from singing the song that only Mike could hear him sing, and it was music - the best kind of music - to Mike's ears. Mike kneaded Micky's ass in his hands, pushing his tongue inside his partner as far as it could go. Micky fisted the bed covers beneath him, his body moving in response.

"_Mike_," Micky gasped. "That feels _so good_."

"Mmm..." Mike hummed, revelling in the sensations he was causing his boy.

"I need _more_." Micky begged. "I need you right_ now_."

Mike removed his face, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Micky peered over his shoulder at his lover, and already Mike could see the curly-haired man was flushed and his face was glowing with need.

"Forget about lube." Micky said breathlessly as he shook his head. "No more wasting time. I'm so ready for this."

"_Fuck_, Micky." Mike muttered, his mind blown by how desperate his partner clearly needed to be fucked.

Mike spat in the palm of his hand and coated his erection with saliva. He positioned himself behind Micky before slipping inside with relative ease.

Micky shuddered as Mike entered him, and Mike closed his eyes, loving how tight and warm it was being inside this beautiful young man. The couple had only had full-sex about three times in the entire two months they spent on tour, and Mike couldn't help but feel like they had to make up for lost time. Mike thrust slow and deep inside Micky, hearing the slightly younger man's voice start moaning quietly in response. Mike felt such a relief to be able to make love to Micky without the fear of someone overhearing them or bursting into the room; Mike felt like he could properly enjoy this for the first time in what felt like forever.

"Harder..." Micky breathed, snapping Mike out of his thoughts.

Mike gripped hold of Micky's hips, and he looked down as his erection slipped in and out of Micky's perfect backside. Mike quickened his pace, and he begun moaning himself as Micky started rocking back and forwards on the bed, pushing himself further onto Mike's cock.

"_Ughhhh_ Mike." Micky groaned, his voice rising in volume. "_Fuck_ me, Mike."

"Jesus, Mick." Mike gasped, his head in a spin.

When Micky talked dirty to Mike, whether during love-making or not, it had the ability to make Mike unravel. Micky's soft, sweet, almost feminine voice sounded so sexy when it was using dirty words, and especially when it was asking Mike to do dirty things and give more. Micky sure as hell wasn't holding himself back this time, and Mike was more than happy to go along with it.

"More, Mike." Micky begged, fisting the sheets below into tight balls.

Micky continued to rock back and forth, and Mike decided to keep perfectly still. Mike held onto Micky's hips hard, and he watched as his boy pushed himself back even harder and faster, effectively fucking himself on Mike's dick. Mike looked down, watching Micky's lively body do all the work and listening to the glorious sounds that were now escaping his partner's mouth at an even louder volume. Mike did feel like the luckiest man on earth.

Mike pushed forward as Micky pushed back, burying himself deep inside of Micky and causing his balls to slap against the younger man's backside in a loud smack. Micky cried out in response, and when Mike slightly changed the angle of his thrusts, hitting that sensitive spot inside of the curly haired man, Micky saw stars.

"Mike!" Micky shouted, his upper body collapsing. "Oh yeah, right there!"

If it didn't feel so good, Mike would probably laugh. Mike thought back to the few times they had made love on tour, with a pillow covering poor Micky's face to stifle his moans. Mike could almost feel Micky's relief at being able to be as loud as he wanted again after being forced to be quiet for so long.

"You're such a naughty boy." Mike breathed, taking full control once more.

Mike pressed his hand against the base of Micky's back - that was now covered in a light layer of sweat - and slid his hand down his lover's body. With Mike's free hand, he slapped Micky's ass again hard, much harder than before, and he felt Micky shudder and clench his muscles around him.

"Mmmm...yeah..." Micky moaned, his head tilting backwards.

"You like that, huh?" Mike asked, quickening his pace and deepening his thrusts.

"Again..." Micky groaned, wiggling his body in response.

Mike slapped the palm of his hand against that perfect target once more, hard enough to sting, but not hard enough to cause Micky any real pain - that wasn't in Mike's nature to do anything to hurt Micky, even if Micky asked for it.

"You're unbelievable, Micky." Mike breathed heavily, looking down at where their two bodies joined. "You feel amazing."

Micky's words became incoherent as his pleasure built and built. Micky's hand disappeared underneath him to attend to his own erection, and Mike watched as his boy started to pumped himself hard and fast, in time with the rhythm that Mike had now set.

Mike felt his whole body begin to get tenser and tenser. There was no way this was ever going to last too long, and Mike felt the end was rapidly approaching now. Mike gripped hold of Micky's hips hard, and his head spun more and more; everything became a blur of moans and sweat and thrusting, the bed was shaking and Mike could feel Micky's body get tighter and tighter around him as both their orgasms approached.

Micky was the first to blow, and his entire body shuddered and jolted as he exploded over the covers beneath him, a loud cry of pleasure leaving his mouth as he did so. Micky's whole body tightened around Mike even more, and Mike could control himself no longer. A few more deep, hard thrusts into Micky and Mike released all he had inside that glorious channel.

Mike instantly withdrew, flopping down on the bed beside Micky. Micky rolled over to avoid laying in the little pool of come beneath him, and collapsed half on-top of his sweaty, panting partner.

"_Wow_." Mike breathed after a few seconds silence.

"Mmm..." Micky nodded, trying to catch his breath.

Micky then lifted his head to look at the Texan. Micky brushed back Mike's dark hair before kissing him on the lips deeply. When Micky broke the kiss, he smiled at his partner with fire in his eyes.

"I really liked that I could call your name." Micky smirked.

Mike chuckled. "I liked hearing it." He said, reaching up and running his fingers through Micky's curls. "I've missed that voice."

Micky rested his head on Mike's chest, wrapping his arms around the slightly taller man. "You felt so good." He said into Mike's skin. Mike laughed again, a low hearty chuckle, and Micky lifted his head once more. "What's funny?" He asked.

"You." Mike replied, beaming at Micky. "You got the sweetest face I've ever seen, and the sweetest voice I ever heard. You look like an angel, like a goddamn cherub or somethin'... and then you say you want it rough, that you wanna be spanked and fucked hard. And you just blow my mind, baby."

Micky grinned, rubbing the tip of his nose against the Texan's. "I can't help it. You drive me mad. You do things to me I didn't even think were possible."

Mike continued to smile at his boy, and he run his fingers through Micky's mass of curls once more. "Right back at ya, babe. I don't even think you realise just how wild you make me feel."

"I think I have some idea." Micky grinned, pressing his lips against Mike's again in a gentle kiss.

The couple then climbed under the covers, as the dampness from their sweat was slowly beginning to cool them down, and they cuddled together once more, with Micky returning to his usual spot resting his head on Mike's chest.

"As much as I enjoyed the tour, I'm pretty happy that we're home now," Micky begun thoughtfully. "I'm looking forward to getting back to normality. Well, our version or normality anyway."

Mike was silent as he listened to his lover, tracing his fingers up and down Micky's toned, tanned back.

"Like it'll be nice for us to not be confined to hotel rooms anymore. That was getting to be such a drag." Micky continued.

"We'll just be confined to a house instead." Mike added a little regretfully.

"_Two_ houses, and two big gardens - that's totally different." Micky said. "We don't have to speak in hushed voices in case someone is outside the door. And we get to wake up together, too. We haven't woken up together in two whole months."

"We spent the night together in Chicago." Mike said, one of his hands still dancing up and down Micky's naked back, and the other losing itself in Micky's curly hair.

"That doesn't count," Micky replied. "You only stayed with me because I was drunk, and when I woke up you weren't even in bed with me. I'm talking about waking up together _properly_, with our legs knotted together and your arms wrapped around me. I've missed that."

Mike smiled sadly. "I have too." He said quietly.

The pair were silent for a few moments, until Micky lifted his head to look at the Texan curiously. "What are you thinking?" Micky asked, sensing that something was on his partners mind.

"Well..." Mike begun cautiously. "Speaking of when we were in Chicago, there's somethin' I've been meaning to ask you about."

"Oh yeah?" Micky asked, intrigued. "What is it?"

"When you were drunk that night, you know, 'cause you were stressed out about Samantha and the baby n'all that... you said somethin'." Mike said, speaking slowly. "You said you were sick of all the lies, that you hated that we couldn't be honest with everyone about us. You seemed really cut up about it."

"And you're only mentioning this now?" Micky asked, his face falling somewhat.

"Well we ain't had much time to talk, have we?" Mike said. "It's been playin' on my mind."

Micky sighed. "I was drunk, babe." He said. "I say stupid shit at the best of times, let alone when I'm wasted."

"Did you mean it?" Mike questioned, staring at his boy hard.

Micky broke eye-contact with Mike for a moment which unsettled the Texan. "Well of course it'd be easier if we didn't have to lie. Of course it'd be cool if we could just be straight with everyone." Micky replied. "But it is the way it is and that's cool too. I can live with it."

Mike tensed up, his whole body and mind becoming uncomfortable. "I don't want you to_ live_ with it. You say it like it's some sorta disease you're stuck with."

"That's not what I said at all." Micky replied, his face immediately turning into a frown. "Don't put words in my mouth."

Mike sat up and rubbed his face, the relief and after-glow of great sex fading fast. He was again visibly stressed out.

"Hey, what are you being like that for?" Micky asked, as concerned as he was annoyed.

"I'm sorry." Mike sighed. "I just... I want you to be okay."

"I am okay. Do I look like I'm not okay?" Micky asked, he too sitting up. "You should learn not to take things too seriously. I was drunk."

"But you said you meant what you said about hatin' all the lying." Mike hit back, looking at Micky.

"Oh my god." Micky groaned, laying back down and covering his eyes with his hands. He took a deep breath before looking at Mike. "I'd just found out my ex-girlfriend is having my baby and wants us to be a family, and I couldn't even tell her the real reason why that's never gonna happen. I was stressed out and I was drunk. Of course it'd be great if things were a bit different, but just because they aren't it doesn't mean I'm not okay or I'm not happy. What the hell do I have to do to prove that to you?"

Mike watched Micky as he spoke, and Micky looked almost pained at having to reassure his partner yet again. Mike felt guilty that he'd clearly stressed out the curly-haired man.

"I'm sorry." Mike said again, sighing deeply. "You just got a lot goin' on at the moment and I don't want to add to the stress of it."

"You're right; I _have_ got stuff going on. I need to see Samantha in the next couple of days, and I also need to tell my mom she's going to be a grandma." Micky said. "I need your support, I don't need you stressing out and worrying over something stupid I said when I was drunk."

Mike pondered what Micky had said. "You have my support, babe. Of course you do. It was just hard for me to hear you say that stuff, that's all. You're under a lot of pressure - we both are - and I just..." He trailed off.

"Just what?" Micky pressed, sitting up and looking at the Texan curiously.

Mike sighed, giving in. "I just don't want you to... _crack_, under the pressure." Mike looked away, feeling guilty for feeling that way and even worse for saying it.

"So what, you think it's all going to get too much for me and I'm going to leave you, is that it?" Micky asked, a little put out.

"I dunno..." Mike replied quietly, looking down at the quilt that covered them. "I know it ain't easy for you to lie to everyone, and it's hard for me too, but... With everythin' that you've got going on with Samantha and the baby, I just don't want to make things worse or more difficult for you, because you have to keep our secret on top of everything else."

Micky rubbed his face with his hand. "I can't believe we're even having this conversation." He said, looking and sounding a little defeated. "I thought we were going to have a nice night together, just you and me spending some quality time together for the first time in two months. We just had some amazing sex and all I wanted to do was just hang out with you, just lay with you and kiss and cuddle and make love all night and now you've gone and ruined it."

Micky laid down again, this time with his arms folded. He looked both annoyed and a little hurt, and Mike felt awful.

"I'm sorry, baby." Mike said, his voice sincere. "I didn't mean- I didn't mean to upset ya. I didn't mean for it to turn into this. I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

"I _am_ okay." Micky replied. "Or at least I was before you started questioning me. God, it's like I can't say anything right. I don't know what I have to do to prove to you that I'm happy with the way things are. I tell you I love you every day, I let you throw me on the bed and fuck me senseless, I smile with you and I laugh with you, what more do you want me to do?"

Mike closed his eyes, sucking in a deep breath. "I can't help worrying about you, Mick. I fucking love you, boy."

"And I love you too. I worry about you too, only when I ask you what's up, most of the time you ignore me or say everything is fine." Micky hit back. "I still see you sitting there, a million miles away, and I have no idea what's going on in your head. You make out I'm the only one that matters, or that you're the only one that gives a shit. Well I give a shit about you too, so I'm going to ask you now; can _you_ deal with lying to everyone?"

Mike stared at Micky almost blankly, quite surprised by the question. "Yes. Of course I can."

Micky propped himself up on his elbows. "Can you? Or are you just so distracted by worrying about me that you don't stop to think about yourself?"

Mike opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out - he wasn't sure how to answer that. Mike thought about Micky's question carefully. "I'm different to you. I'm not as open about my personal life as you are. You're more sharing - and more caring - than I am. We've been through this before."

"Right." Micky said, slumping back down and crossing his arms once more. "So you agree we're covering old ground here."

Mike nodded his head slowly, accepting Micky's point. "I weren't trying to upset you, Mick." He said gently. "I can't help the way I feel."

Micky looked towards the Texan, and his face softened slightly. "Then just trust me when I say that I'm happy." He said, sitting up and moving closer to his lover. "Things are the way they are right now, and that's cool. I told you that when we agreed to do this in the first place. For you, it's all worth it. _All_ of it."

Mike smiled sympathetically. He lifted his hand to Micky's hair, touching it lightly.

"Please don't worry about me." Micky continued. "Sneaking around is tough sometimes, but it's a small price to pay. And you never know what the future holds; it might not always be this way."

Mike's face fell slightly, and he swallowed hard. Mike disagreed with what Micky had said, but he decided to let it lie for now. Mike smiled - a forced smile at first, but when he saw Micky smile back, it became genuine.

"You worry too much." Micky whispered, leaning in to the Texan and gently stroking his hair. "Please don't worry."

Mike nodded his head. Micky leaned in and kissed Mike on the lips gently before rubbing the tips of their noses together in another Eskimo kiss. "Now," Micky said. "I don't want our first proper night together in months to be spent arguing or stressing each other out."

Mike's mouth curled up at the sides. "Well what would you like us to do then?" He asked.

Micky grinned. "I can think of a few things."


	8. Chapter 8

Two days later, Micky arrived at Mike's house after a strenuous day. Micky had been to see both Samantha and his mother, and by the time he reached Mike's house at the end of the day, he was feeling rather stressed out.

Mike let Micky inside, and Micky smiled weakly at his lover. "How were the boys?" Micky asked, as Mike had spent that day with his children.

"They were great," Mike replied as Micky walked inside. "It was so good to see 'em. I swear they've grown since we've been away."

The couple walked into the lounge. "Did they like the gifts you brought them?" Micky wondered.

"Yup, they were really pleased." Mike smiled, about to sit down. "But how was your day?"

"Before we do or say anything, I need a stiff drink." Micky responded, walking over to the small bar where Mike stored his alcohol. "Do you want one?"

"Just a little somethin'. Whatever you're havin'." Mike replied.

Micky poured them both a small glass of scotch each, though Micky knocked his back right away before pouring himself a slightly smaller glass once more.

"I'm guessing it didn't go so well?" Mike asked, his tone worried.

Micky walked to where Mike was sitting on the couch. He handed his partner a glass before sitting down beside him. "It could've been worse, I suppose." Micky replied. "Samantha was okay. Actually, it went even better than I expected. She actually seemed to accept that nothing was going to happen between us... I gave her that book I brought, you know, the one about pregnancy. She seemed to appreciate it, but I told her I knew I had to do a hell of a lot more than just buy her stuff, you know?"

Mike nodded, listening carefully, taking a few sips of his scotch as he did so.

"And I told her what we'd talked about, you know, about me opening a bank account just for the baby." Micky went on. "And I told her that she could dip into it whenever she needed to. I just wanted to make her feel secure, you know? I really don't want her to think I'm just gonna bail on her when the going gets tough."

"And do you think she believed you?" Mike wondered.

Micky nodded. "I think so. I mean, it was a lot more relaxed than the last time we spoke. She didn't get upset or anything, and she seemed much more, I don't know, _calm_, I guess. I was pretty happy with how it went. I feel like we've made some progress."

"Well that's really good, Mick." Mike smiled.

"Yeah... Well, it _was_ good, until I saw my mom." Micky sighed, rubbing his face with his hand and taking another large sip of his drink. "I didn't think I was going to be able to tell her, but I did... and she was so happy, man. Like, you should've seen her face. It was like the best news she'd ever heard until I told her that me and Samantha still weren't a couple, and we weren't going to be either. And she flipped out. She totally didn't get why I wasn't with Sammy, and she said that I should just "do the right thing" and marry her. Ugh."

Mike looked down sadly.

"I had to tell her the same thing I told Samantha; I had to tell her that I was in love with someone else." Micky continued, sighing heavily. "It was so hard. She looked so disappointed in me. I mean, by the end I think she got it, you know? But she still wasn't as happy as she could've been. I really think she's disappointed in me."

Mike looked up. "I'm sure she ain't, Mick." He said gently. "It'll just be the shock, that's all. She'll come round."

"I hope so." Micky said, looking a little defeated. "I guess it's only a matter of time before everyone else finds out now. God, people are going to think I'm a total asshole."

"Well even if they do, once that baby comes and you're a great father, they won't think that no more." Mike said, his voice an almost calming influence on Micky. "And who cares what anyone else thinks anyway? You need to stop worryin' so much about what people think of ya. They don't mean shit, Micky. The only thing that matters is that the baby is gonna have two parents that love her. Or_ him_."

Micky stared at the Texan and managed a small smile. "Do you think?" He asked.

"I do think." Mike reassured him. "No one else matters apart from you, Samantha and the baby."

"_You_ matter." Micky said seriously.

Mike took another sip of his drink. "At least your mom knows now." He said, ignoring Micky's comment. "You ain't got to worry about hiding that from her anymore. And she'll come round, trust me. You're givin' her a grandchild for Christ's sakes."

Micky nodded slowly. "I guess so." He said, pondering Mike's words. "I just don't want to let anyone down."

"You couldn't even if you tried; you ain't got it in ya." Mike said matter-of-factly.

Micky smiled, grateful that Mike somehow always managed to make him feel better. He sighed deeply, almost contently, trying to let the stress of the day wash over him. Micky blew out a deep breath. "That's enough about me. How was your day with the boys? Tell me what you did."

Mike smiled weakly. "Well, we had a good day, but it weren't all good." He replied a little sadly. "I got a call from my mom today. My grandma is sick."

Micky frowned. "It's nothing serious, is it?"

Mike shrugged his shoulders. "We don't know. She won't see a doctor, will she?" He replied, referring to his family's strict belief in Christian Science. "Apparently she's been under the weather for a while. They didn't mention it while we were on tour 'cause they didn't see a point. But the last couple'a days she's gotten worse... I dunno. I need to go see her. I said I'd go to Texas within the next couple of days."

Micky rubbed his face. "Why didn't you say something sooner? There's me going on about my shit, while your grandma is sick."

Mike shook his head. "It don't matter." He said. "I just need to see her as soon as I can."

"Do they think it's something really bad?" Micky asked, concerned.

Mike shrugged again. "Well she ain't gettin' any younger. I mean, hopefully it's nothin'. But at this point we ain't sure and I ain't gonna be happy until I've seen her for myself."

Micky was thoughtful for a moment. An idea came into his head, but he was pretty damn certain that Mike wouldn't go along with it. "Do you want me to come with you..?" Micky asked, almost nervously - more in hope that expectancy.

"To Texas?" Mike asked. He gave Micky a confused look.

"Yeah. I could come with you." Micky replied hopefully.

Mike smiled weakly. "You know you can't, babe." He said, causing Micky's heart to sink.

"Well, I _could_. I mean, I'd stay out of the way, but at least I'd be there." Micky said.

Mike shook his head. "No, Mick. But thank you." He said, taking a sip of his drink.

Micky nodded slowly, looking down. "Okay." He said, looking into his glass of scotch. "As long as you're sure."

Mike reached out and gently touched the top of Micky's ear. "Hey," He said. "I'll be fine on my own. I'll only be a couple of days, all bein' well."

Micky looked up. "I know how close you are to your grandma. I don't like the thought of you worrying on your own."

Mike smiled. It was a warm, loving smile. "You're a good boy, Mick." He said gently. "But you don't need to worry about me. I'll be fine. I'll be back by the weekend to see the boys."

Micky looked at his partner with uncertainty. Micky was fairly certain that Mike was more worried than he was letting on, and looking back it had been obvious that something wasn't quite right with Mike from the moment Micky had come in - only Micky had been too wrapped up in his own troubles to realise it right away. Mike was close to his grandmother and Micky could see in the Texan's eyes that he was deeply concerned for her health - even if he didn't come out and say it.

"You are allowed to be worried, you know." Micky said almost nervously after a few seconds of silence.

"I'm fine." Mike repeated, a little blunter than before. "Honestly. I'm sure it ain't nothin' serious. Maybe she has a virus or something."

Micky nodded slowly. "Yeah, maybe." He said. "I'm sure she'll be fine."

"Of course she will." Mike stated confidently. "I'm sorry I have to leave again so soon though. I was lookin' forward to spending the week with ya, but it ain't working out like that. I'm sorry."

"Don't be silly, you don't have to apologise; it can't be helped." Micky replied sympathetically. "I'll miss you, but I'll be here when you get back, won't I?"

Mike nodded with a small smile. "Yeah. And then we'll spend some quality time together, I promise."

* * *

So Mike went to Texas, managing to get a flight the next day. While Mike did call Micky the two days he was there, it didn't do much to stem Micky's worries; Mike wasn't big at talking on the phone, and Micky was never really sure what his partner was thinking or feeling, or exactly what was going on there. All Mike would say was that his grandmother "could be better", but that he was "just fine".

Mike was home by Friday evening, in time to spend the weekend with his children who he so desperately wanted to catch up with after only spending a few hours with them earlier in the week; it had been a long two months on the road without seeing his boys, and although he'd called them every day, it wasn't the same as seeing them in person.

Sunday evening, Micky was in his home waiting for Mike to arrive. Micky had missed Mike almost painfully over the past five days, and he was desperate to catch-up with his partner and make sure he was okay. Micky wasn't sure exactly when Mike would arrive, so he tried to kill the time until then by burying his head in one of his many science fiction novels.

"Hello, angel."

Micky flinched, a voice breaking his concentration; Micky had been so involved in his book that he hadn't heard Mike sneak into the house. Micky looked up to see the tall Texan standing in the doorway, a half-smile on his face.

Micky quickly closed his book and stood up.

"I didn't mean to scare ya." Mike said, walking into the room.

"I didn't even hear you come in," Micky said, walking up to his partner and staring at him through loving eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm better for seeing you." Mike replied, holding his arms out to his boy.

Micky hugged Mike, sliding his arms around the Texan's back and pulling him close.

"I missed you." Micky whispered.

"I missed you too." Mike replied, stroking Micky's hair gently. He pulled back and smiled at his lover. "How dumb are we, huh? I only saw you on Tuesday. I ain't even been away from ya for a week."

Micky laughed a little. "I know." He said. "But we were so used to be together every single day on tour. Even if it wasn't just you and me, we were still around each other. I feel like I've been missing an arm or something this week."

Mike nodded. "Me too." He admitted, gazing at Micky. "But I'm here now."

Micky took hold of Mike's hand, leading him to the couch where they sat down. "And now you're here, you can tell me everything." Micky said. "You're so vague on the phone, babe. It drives me mad."

"I'm sorry." Mike said a little guiltily. "But there ain't been much to say."

"How's your grandmother? How is she _really_?" Micky wondered.

"Well, she were in high spirits, even if she weren't feelin' too good." Mike replied, getting comfy on the couch. "She actually seemed a little brighter by the time I left, so that's somethin' at least. I called Ma again today and she said there's no change, but Grandma ain't gettin' no worse either. So I guess that's good news."

Micky nodded. "I think that's good, yeah."

"So hopefully she'll get better soon." Mike said optimistically. "But I'll keep callin' every day to make sure she's alright."

"And have _you_ been alright?" Micky asked, narrowing his eyes.

"'Course I have." Mike replied, nonchalant. "Apart from missin' you. I really did miss you, Mick. I told myself I were bein' silly, that I wasn't even gonna be away from ya for that long, but I couldn't help it. It's like what you said; it's like I were missin' an arm or something. It was really weird."

"Well I'm kinda glad I'm not the only one." Micky said with a shy smile. "I didn't really know what to do with myself. I mean, I caught up with everyone which was cool, but all I really wanted to do was see you. How stupid is that?"

Mike smiled, running his fingers through Micky's hair. He stared into his partner's eyes, and Micky felt butterflies. Mike leaned forward a little, almost teasing Micky, and Micky followed suit, closing the gap between their faces. Mike moved the hand from Micky's hair down to Micky's face, and he lightly stroked the younger man's cheek with the side of his finger.

Micky smiled and locked eyes with the Texan. Micky placed his hand on top of Mike's, lacing their fingers together. He beamed at his partner before pressing his lips gently against the slightly older man's. They kissed, slowly and gently at first, with Micky's hand moving to the back of Mike's head. It was a tender and loving kiss, and when the couple pulled apart, they were both a little breathless.

Micky smiled, his face still not far from Mike's. Mike traced the side of his finger down Micky's cheek and along his jaw line, almost marvelling at the boy in front of him.

"You know what I missed about you?" Mike asked quietly.

Micky shook his head, causing the Texan to smile. "I missed your laugh. And I missed seeing you smile. I missed the way your hair smells when you've just showered, and the way you look when you're sleepin'. I missed the way your nose twitches when you're asleep, and the way you look when you wake up in the mornin'. I missed watchin' you read, and hearin' you sing. I missed the way you look at me like I'm the most important man on earth, even though I can't understand for the life of me why you'd think that. I missed- I missed it all. _All_ of it. All of you. And I was only away from ya for five days. I think I might be addicted to you."

Micky could hardly contain the smile on his face; he felt absolutely smitten. "Wow..." He said, his breath getting a litle caught in his throat. "I think I might've just fallen in love with you all over again."

"You're so easily pleased." Mike joked.

"Shut up and kiss me again." Micky said, fisting the mass of dark hair on the back of Mike's head and pulling him into a kiss once more.

As loving as this kiss was, it was filled with more fire than before. Micky pushed his tongue into the Texan's mouth, feeling Mike's arms wrap around him, pulling Micky even closer. Mike's hand moved to the side of Micky's neck, his long fingers curling around the back below Micky's hair, and causing the younger man to shiver.

Mike broke the kiss, eyeing Micky with passion-filled eyes. Both of them were feeling flushed and a little breathless. "I love you in these." Mike said, looking down at the denim cut-off shorts that Micky was wearing.

Micky smiled. "I know you do." He said, placing his hand on Mike's thigh and stroking it through the Texan's jeans.

Mike bit his lip, his eyes turning darker. "I'd love you even more out of 'em."

Micky grinned, pulling Mike into another fierce kiss. Micky's arms wrapped tight around Mike, while Mike's hand trailed up Micky's thigh and ended up on the curly-haired man's crotch. Mike groped Micky through his shorts, rubbing him and causing Micky to moan quietly into Mike's mouth.

Micky pulled back, grabbing hold of the bottom of Mike's t-shirt and pulling it over the Texan's head in one swift motion. Micky twisted himself so he was straddling Mike in a sitting position, his knees either side of Mike on the couch, and he kissed the older man's chest hungrily.

Mike tilted his head back, allowing Micky's lips to cover his skin. Mike tugged at the bottom of Micky's own t-shirt, and Micky lifted his arms in the air, allowing Mike to slide the t-shirt up and over Micky's head.

And then they were kissing again, Mike's hands sliding up and down Micky's back, while Micky's hands were on either side of Mike's face. Micky started grinding his crotch against the Texan's, desperate to cause some friction. Mike's lips moved to Micky's neck, and his hands slid down inside the top of Micky's low-slung shorts. Mike then moved his fingers to the front of Micky's shorts and hastily popped open the button.

Mike squeezed Micky through the front of his shorts once more before pushing his hand inside. Once again, Micky wasn't wearing any underwear, and Mike swiftly pulled Micky's cock out of his shorts.

"Never wearin' any underwear." Mike said breathlessly as Micky kissed down Mike's chest again.

"Saves time." Micky said between kisses.

Micky then got to work on getting Mike's jeans undone, and Mike lifted himself up just enough for Micky to push down Mike's jeans far enough to free the Texan's erection. The couple kissed each other hungrily again, Micky the first to take Mike's shaft in his hand. Mike followed suit, gripping hold of Micky, and the two of them started to pump each other hard and fast as they kissed passionately.

They broke their kiss, Mike's head falling against the back of the couch as Micky kissed the tender skin on his neck. Mike lifted his head to stare into his lover's eyes, and they gazed at each other, matching each others rhythm and movements on each of their erections. Their breathing was heavy, and Micky continued to move on top of Mike, grinding their working hands together to cause more friction between them. But they continued to stare into each other's eyes, studying each other as their passion and pleasure grew and grew.

And then they were kissing again, Mike's free hand fisting the curls on Micky's head. They continued like this for several minutes; passionate kisses in between long, loving looks into each other's eyes. Micky could feel himself getting closer to the edge now, and he picked up the pace of the hand that was working Mike's hard on, signalling for Mike to do the same. Mike obliged, matching Micky's pace and pumping his lover hard and fast.

"You're gorgeous." Micky whispered between breaths, staring at Mike with fascination, love and lust.

Mike pulled Micky's head forward, pushing their lips together, his fingers stroking the back of Micky's head through the mass of curls. And then Micky was undone; he had to break the kiss to suck in a deep breath of air before he and Mike looked down between their writhing bodies to see Micky spill his load onto Mike's hand and his own stomach. Micky shuddered, a small moan escaping him as he reached his orgasm, and his grip on Mike's penis automatically tightened as the pleasure overcome him. In turn, that was enough to send Mike over the edge, and a few hard pumps later, Mike too was spent, caking his stomach with come.

Micky worked Mike's length a little longer, pumping the Texan until he was limp while kissing his partner deeply. Mike's arms snaked around Micky's back, holding the curly haired man close as they kissed slowly; these were no longer kisses of fire, but now gentle kisses of love and relief.

When Micky pulled back, he smiled at his now exhausted lover. Mike looked down at the mess between their bodies, and he giggled almost sheepishly. Micky smiled some more; he thought Mike could be so adorable sometimes without even trying.

"That was nice." Micky smiled, still straddling the Texan.

Mike nodded, and he reached out, running his fingers through Micky's hair.

Micky grabbed hold of his t-shirt that had been tossed on the couch next to them, and he scrunched it into a ball before carefully wiping the come off Mike's stomach. Mike watched quietly as Micky gently cleaned up his partner, rubbing the cloth against the dark hair at the base of Mike's stomach, ridding the Texan of remnants of their little session a few moments before. Micky then turned his attention to himself, wiping his own come off of his stomach in the same way he'd taken care of Mike, and once he was satisfied that they were both as clean as they could be without soap and water, Micky balled the shirt up further before tossing it onto the floor.

Mike was smiling at his lover. "You're so good to me." He said quietly.

Micky beamed, planting a little kiss on the end of Mike's nose before leaning into the Texan's arms for a loving hug.

The couple wrapped their arms around each other, and they held each other quietly for a few minutes, enjoying the silence and being together after several long days apart.

Micky leaned back so he could look at Mike. Mike watched his boy with intrigue, the pair of them with soppy smiles on their tired faces.

"I love you." Micky said, almost cheekily.

Mike chuckled quietly. "I love you more."

"Not possible." Micky said with a large grin. It was the same line they each used so many times but had no intention of stopping.

Micky looked down between their bodies once more, staring at Mike's now soft penis. "Your dick is _massive_."

Mike scoffed, clearly surprised by that comment.

"No, really - it is." Micky said, almost transfixed on Mike's rather large member. "I know this isn't new news, and it's not like I haven't noticed before; I mean, obviously I have. I've had it in me at both ends more times than I can even begin to remember, so it's not like I'm unaware of how big you are. But sometimes it's just like, _wow_. Maybe it's because I haven't seen you for nearly a week - I don't know."

Mike looked embarrassed. "I don't know what to say to that."

Micky looked up at his partner's face. "Aww. You're blushing."

Mike laughed nervously. "No I ain't."

"Yeah, you are." Micky grinned. "You shouldn't be embarrassed, you should be proud of that thing." Micky then took Mike's penis in his hand. "I mean, look at it; it's huge."

Mike laughed even more, his face burning red. "Shut up."

"Don't be so modest!" Micky said, and he took hold of his own dick in his free hand. "Look at it compared to mine. I mean, there's at least two-inches difference, but look at how much thicker it is."

"Micky!" Mike gasped, laughing through his embarrassment. He took hold of Micky's wrist and pulled it off of him. "Stop!"

"Nooo." Micky giggled, taking hold of Mike again. "I've never seen a dick as big as yours. Have you ever measured it?"

"What- no! You know I haven't." Mike said. He was still laughing, but his face was burning scarlet - he was clearly embarrassed, as well as amused by Micky's actions and words.

"We need to measure it. Don't you wanna know exactly how big you are?" Micky asked.

"No I don't!" Mike laughed, grabbing hold of his t-shirt that was next to him on the couch. He then tossed it over his penis, hiding it from Micky's view.

Micky poked his bottom lip out. "Spoil sport." He said.

"You're mad." Mike said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"And you have a giant penis." Micky grinned.

"Oh my god, shut up." Mike covered his face with his hand.

"You're so red." Micky teased with a giggle. "Have I embarrassed you?"

"Yes." Mike replied through his hand. "Please stop talking about my cock. It's so weird."

"It's not weird; it's gorgeous." Micky said, lifting up the side of Mike's t-shirt to have a peak. "As gorgeous as a dick can be, anyway."

Mike peaked at Micky from between his fingers. "All penises are ugly."

Micky gasped dramatically. "Even mine?"

Mike removed his hand from his face, and he pulled back the t-shirt between them to look at Micky's penis. "I can make an exception for yours."

Micky grinned. "Good." He said. "But seriously though, if I had a dick like yours, I'd be so proud."

"I- I don't-" Mike opened his mouth, but the words were a bit of a jumble. He really had no idea what to say.

Micky smiled at his partner. "You really don't know what to do with compliments, do you?" He asked.

"Well it ain't like you said I got nice hair or somethin'." Mike replied.

"But you must've had compliments about your dick before?" Micky wondered.

Mike opened his mouth to speak; it looked like he was going to reply with; "no", but that was clearly a lie. "Not quite like that, no."

Micky smiled, leaning closer to the Texan. "You're so cute. I like it when you get all shy and embarrassed."

Mike let out a low chuckle. He shook his head. "You're such a weirdo."

Micky bit his lip and slid off of Mike and down onto the floor on his knees. Micky pulled his shorts back up and fastened them before placing his hands on either of Mike's naked thighs, sliding his hands down to the top of Mike's jeans that were still around his legs just above his knees. Micky then pulled the pants down until they were around Mike's ankles.

"Lift." Micky said, gesturing to each of Mike's feet, so Micky could get the jeans off completely.

"What are you playin' at?" Mike asked suspiciously as he lifted his feet, allowing Micky to pull the jeans all the way off.

Micky chucked the jeans and underwear to the side before placing a hand on either of Mike's knees and pulling his legs apart. Micky then moved between Mike's legs, taking hold of the t-shirt that still covered Mike's modesty and tossing it away.

"What are you doin'?" Mike asked, looking down at Micky with a suspicious smile on his face.

Micky planted a couple of kisses on the inside of Mike's thighs. "Well, I've just been saying how amazing I think your penis is, so now I'm going to _show_ you how much I love it."

Mike opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the feeling of Micky's hot, wet mouth surrounding the tip of his cock before Micky's lips slid down his shaft, swallowing him. Mike let out a strangled groan, both of his hands immediately fisting the head of curls between his legs as Micky started bobbing his head.

Mike had been soft, but he was stiffening rapidly inside Micky's expert mouth. Mike's head flopped against the back of the chair once more as Micky worked his magic. Micky took hold of the base of Mike's erection and he licked up the underside of Mike's shaft before running his tongue over the tip. Mike let out another quiet moan, his breath quickening, and he fisted Micky's curly hair tighter.

Mike lifted his head so he could watch Micky's head bob up and down between his legs. Mike could hardly believe how lucky he was, and Micky felt pretty lucky too; Micky loved pleasuring Mike.

A few minutes later and Mike came straight down Micky's throat, and the curly-haired man didn't even flinch. Micky sucked Mike until he'd swallowed every last drop, and then he released Mike from his mouth.

"You," Mike gasped. "Are so, _so_ good at that."

Micky swallowed hard, licking his lips. Mike lifted his head to look at his boy on his knees on the floor, and Micky took hold of Mike's length once more. Micky smiled at it, and he planted a tiny kiss on Mike's shaft, and then on the tip, before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and rising to his feet.

Micky looked down at his knees that were poking out of his shorts; they were red and felt a little sore, but it was more than worth it in Micky's eyes. Micky rubbed his knees before looking up to see that Mike was watching him from under heavy-lidded eyes.

"You're somethin' else, boy." Mike said breathlessly as Micky plopped down next to him on the couch. Micky simply smiled as Mike reached out to touch Micky's hair. "I love you so fuckin' much, you know that? And not just because you give a great blow job."

Micky continued to smile; it was no longer a cheeky smile, but a loving and tender smile. "I do know that." He said. "And I love you too. More than I think you realise."

Mike leaned over, kissing his boy gently on the lips. Micky then leaned against Mike, resting his head against the Texan's chest.

"I really missed you these past few days." Mike said quietly.

"I'm glad you're here now." Micky said. "I'm so looking forward to just hanging out with you for a while. I don't just mean having sex and stuff, I mean- I mean just being_ with_ you. It was really tough being on tour with you every day but not being able to be with you like this."

Mike nodded. "I know." He said. "But I ain't plannin' on going anywhere for a while now. I said I'd go back to Texas at the end of the month, you know, just to see how Grandma is doin'."

Micky lifted his head. "I know how close you are to her. I know you've been more worried about her than you've let on."

Mike sighed. He bent down, picked up his boxers from the floor and pulled them on before leaning back on the coach again. "Maybe." He admitted. "When I were a kid, it was just me, Mom and Grandma. She was like second mother, really. It ain't nice knowin' that she's sick."

"But she'll get better." Micky said, gently stroking the hair on Mike's chest. "Next time you see her, I'm sure she'll be way better than she is now."

Mike gave a half-smile. "I hope so." He said. Mike sighed deeply, resting his head against the back of the couch. "I'm glad I'm goin' to get some time with you, though."

"We can enjoy being back in our little bubble for a while." Micky smiled.

Mike nodded. "Yeah. I'd like that." He said.


	9. Chapter 9

In the following two weeks, Mike and Micky enjoyed spending some quality time together, making up for lost time on tour. It hadn't all been plain sailing though; word had gotten out about Samantha's pregnancy, and Micky had faced some rather difficult questions from his friends and other members of his family. Micky was getting tired of having to justify himself and his actions, but at the same time a part of him was glad it was out in the open - that was one less secret he'd have to keep, anyway.

Mike and Micky were hanging out at Mike's place that evening, eating a take-out pizza in front of the TV. It had been a relaxing evening, but after several minutes silence, Micky spoke up.

"You know what we need to do?" Micky begun in an excited tone.

Mike looked at Micky suspiciously. "Do I wanna know..?"

"We need to spend a day at the lake." Micky replied. "Maybe even a night! My dad used to take me to this really groovy lake when I was a kid, we'd go fishing and just hang out and climb trees and it used to be so much fun. I'd really love to take you there. We could even camp, just you and me in a tent in the woods with no one around us for miles and miles. How cool would that be?"

Mike looked a little uneasy. "I ain't sure about camping, Mick."

"Why not?" Micky asked, feeling disappointed. It didn't take him long to realise what Mike's issue was. "You think someone will see us?"

Mike looked down at his slice of pizza. "We need to be careful." He said a little regretfully.

"We don't have to worry, because this place is super quiet. It's not like touristy or anything." Micky said optimistically. "I think it'd be so much fun. You and me, down with nature."

"I ain't really big on the whole campin' thing though, Micky. I ain't ever camped in my life." Mike admitted.

"You've never been camping?!" Micky gasped. "Well then we _have_ to go. It's so much fun. We can build a log fire and then snuggle up under a blanket beneath the stars. It'd be so romantic."

Mike wore a slightly pained smile. "Maybe."

Micky chucked his pizza crust into the now empty pizza box, and slid closer to Mike on the couch. "_Please_." He whined. "You'd love it, I promise."

"Maybe we could go for a day, just fishin', but I really ain't sure that camping is a good idea." Mike said, tilting his head to the side. "Suppose someone else is around? And suppose they see us settin' up our tent, just two men in the wilderness on their own?"

Micky sat back and let out a little sigh. "At least say you'll think about it."

"I _will_ think about it, but I ain't makin' no promises." Mike replied, standing strong.

Micky went back to watching the TV and remained silent.

"Hey," Mike jabbed Micky on the arm. "I ain't tryin' to be a party-pooper, you know."

Micky looked at his partner and smiled sympathetically. "I know you're not, babe." He said. "I'd just really love it if we could get out of the house and do something fun together, just the two of us, and not have to worry about anything."

"But we always have to worry about _something_." Mike said, giving Micky a knowing look. "We have to watch our backs, baby."

"I know we do." Micky sighed. "But trust me; this place is super quiet. That's why my dad used to take me there. I was on TV at the time, and so was he, so it was good to just be away from everybody; no distractions, no nothing. Just me and my dad in the woods. It'd just be so cool to do something like that with you. When we go to parties and clubs together, it's not the same, because we have to pretend that there's nothing going on and it just- I don't know. It's a drag, I guess. But that's not me saying I'm not happy with how things are, so please don't take that the wrong way."

Mike smiled at his partner, lightly touching the side of his face. "I know, Mick." He replied. "And I will think about it, I promise. Maybe we could give it a try... but I'm tellin' ya, babe, if we see one person, we can't stay. I mean it. It ain't worth the risk."

Micky nodded. "That's fair enough. I can agree with that." He said.

"Good." Mike smiled.

The couple were silent for a few moments, going back to watching the TV.

"You know," Mike begun, a hint of cheek in his tone. "I might get the wrong idea about you wanting to get me alone in the woods. I mean, what if you take advantage of me?"

Micky smirked, looking at his lover. "Would that be such a bad thing?" He flirted.

Mike shrugged, a coy smile on his face. "Well that depends." He said. "But just so you know, I can give as good as I get."

"Oh yeah?" Micky said, raising his eyes.

"Yup." Mike nodded. "Remember, I know your weak points."

"And what are my weak points?" Micky wondered, a silly smile on his face.

"Well, there's this for starters," Mike replied, and before Micky knew it, Mike started attacking him with tickles, digging his fingers into Micky's ribs, causing the curly-haired man to wriggle and laugh uncontrollably.

"No no no no!" Micky giggled, squirming beneath Mike's tickling. "Stop! Stop it! I-I- oh my god, stop!"

Mike had no intention of stopping, and he carried on tickling his lover, laughing himself at Micky's completely vulnerable state - Micky was utterly helpless, reduced to a hysterical giggling mess as he was overcome by Mike's tickles.

"See, I know how to defeat you!" Mike joked, almost pinning Micky to the couch as he tickled him further.

Micky flailed his arms and legs, trying to push the Texan off of him but being completely helpless. "Stop!" Micky squealed.

Just then, the phone started ringing, and Mike decided to give Micky a break. Mike quit the tickling and sat up straight as Micky tried to pull himself together.

"You are so mean to me." Micky laughed, sitting up. He rubbed his body with a shudder, itching himself. "You know I hate being tickled!"

The phone continued to ring, and Mike rose to his feet. "I need to get that." He said before pointing at Micky, giving him a playful, warning look. "But this ain't over!" He joked.

Micky giggled some more as Mike left the room to answer the phone. Micky rested his head back on the couch, catching his breath after his little laughing fit. He smiled to himself, imagining what it'd be like if he could actually get Mike to go camping with him. Micky had been getting tired of he and Mike not being able to go out and do things that normal couples do; going to dinner or seeing a movie together was out of the question in Mike's eyes, even if Micky tried to persuade him that two men could go to a movie theatre without it looking like they were a secret couple on a date. But Micky also understood and respected Mike's views, and he knew that the Texan was right to try and protect what they had - even if it meant Micky couldn't do the things he wanted to do. But a little camping trip might be the perfect compromise, Micky thought, and he really hoped that Mike would agree to the idea.

A few minutes passed, and Micky waited patiently until Mike returned to the room. Micky looked up as the Texan entered, before looking back at the TV again.

"Who was it?" Micky asked, referring to the phone call.

When Mike didn't answer, Micky looked up and immediately noticed that something was horribly wrong; the colour had drained from Mike's cheeks, and he looked like he was shocked. Shocked and _sad_.

"What's happened?" Micky asked, a wave or worry washing over him.

"She's gone." Mike replied quietly. "Grandma... she's gone."

Micky's heart sunk into his stomach. "Mike..." He said quietly. Micky quickly stood, turned off the TV, and approached Mike slowly. "Wh-what? What happened?"

"She passed in her sleep." Mike replied, looking at the floor.

"But... but I thought she was getting better." Micky said, now standing in front of the Texan.

Mike shrugged his shoulders.

"Oh baby... Mike, I'm so sorry." Micky said, quickly pulling his partner into a hug.

Mike's arms wrapped around Micky loosely, and Micky felt like Mike was a block of ice in his arms. It was only a few moments before Mike stepped back, sniffing hard - although he wasn't crying - and taking a deep breath.

"I need to get to Texas." Mike said, sounding determined.

Micky nodded. "First thing in the morning we'll go straight to the airport and get a flight."

Mike looked taken aback. "_We_?"

"Well, yeah." Micky replied. "You've just lost your grandma, there's no way I'm letting you go to Texas on your own."

Mike rubbed his head with his hand, turning away from Micky and taking a deep breath. "You can't come with me."

"Of course I can." Micky said with a frown. "Your family won't even have to know I'm there; I'll stay out of the way, I can just tell people that I'm going to support you as a friend."

Mike turned to face Micky once more, and he now looked stressed as well as sad. "No. That ain't happening because you ain't coming."

"But I want to be with you." Micky said, holding onto Mike's arms. "I want to support you."

Mike turned away again, rubbing his eye. "I really don't need this right now..." He muttered.

"Okay, I'm sorry." Micky stressed, not wanting to complicate things or mess up Mike's mind even more.

Mike looked at his partner. "I'm fine. I don't need you to hold my hand." He said bluntly.

Mike's voice was cold, and Micky was a little taken aback - but at the same time, this was _Mike_ he was dealing with, and Micky wasn't sure why he was surprised.

"I should see if I could get a flight tonight." Mike said. He scratched his nose, and he looked like he was trying to take control of the situation.

"Why? Baby, you can't go tonight." Micky said, looking at his watch. "It's nearly 10'o'clock. There's nothing you can do tonight; just wait until the morning."

Mike actually seemed to listen to Micky. "You should go home." He said, coolly. "I ain't gonna be very good company tonight. You should go have some fun; I think Harry's throwin' a party tonight. You should go."

"Wha- _what_?" Micky asked, totally stunned by that comment. "Mike, you- why would you even say that? Do you seriously think I'm going leave you on your own?"

Mike was silent.

"I'm not going anywhere." Micky said, his mouth downturned and sadness bubbling in his stomach.

"I need to pack." Mike said, turning to leave.

Micky quickly reached out and grabbed hold of Mike's hand. "Don't be silly, you don't need to do that right now." He stressed, starting to worry deeply about the Texan. "Please, Mike. Just sit down for a second. You've had a huge shock. Please, let's just sit down."

"I need to do something." Mike said, his cool exterior breaking slightly - Micky could sense a little distress buried deep within his partner.

"Okay, well let me help you then." Micky asked. "I can help you pack."

"I don't need any help." Mike snapped. "What'cha trying to smother me for? I can pack a few goddamn bags on my own. I don't need you to help me. I ain't a child."

Micky held up his hands in a surrendering fashion. "Okay, okay." He stressed, trying to calm Mike down. "I'm sorry. I'm just- I'm just trying to help."

"I'm goin' to take a shower." Mike said, and before Micky could say anything else, Mike had turned and left the room.

Micky stood there totally flummoxed; things had changed so dramatically in just a few minutes, and Micky felt a little overwhelmed. He had no idea how he was supposed to handle Mike in this state, and he was so frustrated that the Texan seemed to insist on pushing him away.

* * *

Micky stayed downstairs a little longer, giving Mike a bit of space. Micky made himself useful by tidying up the pizza box and glasses from their meal, and he turned all the lights off and made sure the house was locked up before he headed upstairs to Mike's bedroom.

Micky perched himself on the edge of the bed, waiting for Mike to emerge from the bathroom. Mike was taking his time, and Micky resisted all temptation to call through the door and ask if Mike was okay.

Soon though, Mike appeared - dressed in boxers and a t-shirt - and he almost looked irritated to see Micky sitting on the bed waiting for him.

"I said you should go." Mike said, going to the chest of drawers and taking a few items of clothing out.

"You know damn-well that I'm not going anywhere." Micky said. "Just like you wouldn't leave me if the tables were turned."

Mike paused, his back toward Micky, clearly taking in what Micky had just said.

Micky stood, and he walked up behind the Texan. "Please talk to me." He said gently.

Mike turned around. "About what?"

"You _know_ what." Micky said, staring at his lover with narrowed eyes. "Please don't push me away. I want to help you."

"I don't need help." Mike snapped, looking totally confused as to why Micky would ever think he needed help. "I told you, I'm fine."

"You're not fine!" Micky said, getting seriously frustrated. "Your grandmother has just died. She was like a second mother to you. You don't need to act like this isn't hurting you, because I know that it is. You can't lie to me. I _know_ you."

Mike shook his head, turning his back to Micky once more and getting more clothes out of the drawer. Mike dumped the clothes on the couch, clearly getting them ready to pack away the next morning.

"Why won't you talk to me?" Micky asked. "It's okay to be upset, you know. If you wanna- if you wanna talk or shout or cry, you can. It's normal."

"_Cry_?" Mike questioned in dismay, looking as if Micky had just suggested he eat his own shit. "I don't need to fucking _cry_."

Micky was stunned by Mike's attitude; earlier on, Mike was nothing short of warm and loving. Now Mike was cold and treating Micky like a virtual stranger.

"Why are you being like this?" Micky asked quietly.

"Why won't you quit hassling me?!" Mike hit back, throwing some more clothes down onto the couch. "How many times do I have to tell you that I'm fine? She was an old lady, she's been sick - old ladies die. That's life. That's just the way it is. And talkin' or cryin' about it ain't gonna bring her back, so what's the fucking point? Quit going on at me, boy. I ain't in the mood."

Mike walked out of the room, once again leaving Micky a little speechless and totally unsure what he was supposed to do next. Again, Micky was forced to fight his instincts; every part of him wanted to chase after Mike, but the rational thinking side of Micky said that it was best to leave him alone - for the moment, at least.

So Micky freshened up ready for bed and once again waited for Mike to return. Micky felt sick with worry and he hated not knowing what his partner was thinking or feeling. It was only about fifteen minutes before Mike came back to the bedroom with a few bits and pieces in his arms that he would take with him to Texas.

Micky didn't say anything, he just watched as Mike gently laid out everything out on the couch. Mike then went to his huge closet and pulled out a large suitcase. He laid it on the couch next to his clothes, and started carefully placing the garments inside.

"I love you, you know." Micky said gently, breaking the silence.

Silence was the only thing that followed though. Mike put his clothes inside and stood there, looking over the suitcase as if he had a million thoughts running through his head.

"I know how much you love her." Micky said, a hint of nerves in his voice. "You don't need to pretend you're okay around me when you're not."

"I told you I'm fine." Mike replied, but this time he didn't snap; instead his voice was quiet and gentle.

"But you're not though." Micky said, standing up and walking over to the Texan. "Please, baby. I'm trying to support you. I don't- I don't know what else I'm supposed to do."

Mike stared at Micky, and for a moment Micky saw his partner begin to thaw. Mike glanced down at the suitcase again. "I don't know what else to take." He said, quickly putting those walls back up again.

Micky sighed, feeling a little defeated. "Don't worry about that now, you can figure it out in the morning. You look exhausted. How about we get some sleep?"

Mike looked back at Micky for a moment. He gave a slight nod of the head before walking to his side of the bed. Both Micky and Mike climbed into bed, and Micky reached for the lamp, switching the room into darkness. Mike got himself comfortable as far away from Micky as physically possible while being in the same bed; Mike laid facing out of the bed, close to the edge, his back towards Micky. Micky didn't let this deter him though, and he slid right up beside the Texan, wrapping his arms around him from behind.

Even though it was a warm August night, Mike felt like a block of ice in Micky's arms. Not physically, but emotionally he was as solid as a rock - stiff, almost, and completely resisting Micky's closeness. Micky pressed himself against Mike's back, holding him lovingly, almost protectively, wishing there was something he could do to ease his lover's pain - even if Mike insisted that he was okay.

Micky had no intention of moving, even though he was getting absolutely nothing back from his partner. Mike still laid there, completely tense, his hands clasped against his chest as if he didn't want to touch Micky.

Micky's mind was now in overdrive, and he wondered how the hell he'd be able to sleep with his mind racing like this. Micky was scared, and he felt helpless - he wanted to do something to help Mike, but he had no idea how he was supposed to handle Mike and his reluctance to communicate. Micky wondered why it was so hard for Mike to show his emotions, and he couldn't understand why the Texan insisted on acting like he was so hard when Micky knew that he really, really wasn't.

It was only when Mike fell asleep that Micky felt his partner start to thaw. Micky could hear Mike's now slow, steady breathing, and the formally tense Texan seemed to relax, the ice melting in Micky's arms. Micky started stroking Mike's arm gently, almost trying to coax his lover into an even more relaxed state. After a few minutes, Mike moved, and Micky lifted his arm to allow Mike to roll over. Now Mike faced Micky, still sound asleep, and he pressed himself against the slightly younger man as if he was suddenly desperate for closeness.

Micky's heart broke a little bit, wondering why Mike had to be asleep to let those walls down from around him. Micky wrapped his arms around Mike once more, gently pulling him closer and careful not to wake him. Mike moulded himself into Micky's arms, burying his face in Micky's chest - it was almost as if Mike was suddenly desperate to be as close as possible, whereas when he was awake he couldn't get far enough away from Micky, physically and emotionally.

Micky gently stroked Mike's back, holding his partner close and wondering what the morning would bring. Micky was desperate to go to Texas with Mike; the thought of Mike going alone and pretending that he was fine when he wasn't made Micky feel sick with worry. Micky could only hope that Mike wouldn't try to push him away again in the next day.

* * *

Micky woke early the next morning to the sound of movement in the bedroom. Micky opened his eyes, and Mike was no longer sleeping soundly next to him. Instead the Texan was up and fully dressed, putting a few final things into his suitcase which had had fully packed while Micky had been asleep.

Micky rubbed his eyes and sat up. He looked at the clock - it was 7:30.

"Mike," Micky said, rubbing his face. "What are you doing?"

"The sooner I get to the airport, the sooner I can get a flight." Mike replied, zipping up his suitcase.

Mike then walked over to the bed and placed his hand on the side of Micky's face before kissing the top of his head firmly.

"I'm gonna leave now." Mike said gently, stroking Micky's curls. "It's early; go back to sleep."

Micky watched as Mike walked towards his suitcase, and he felt overcome with sadness. "Please let me come with you." Micky begged. Mike shook his head, lifting his suitcase. "Please. It won't take me long to pack, or-or I don't even have to get the same flight. I could meet you there later. I won't- I won't even tell anyone I'm coming. Nobody will have to know I'm there."

"No, Micky." Mike replied quietly, gathering his things.

"Please." Micky pleaded, and he shuffled to the bottom of the bed, staring up at the Texan with sad eyes. "I'll stay out of the way, your family won't have to see me. They won't even know I'm there, but-but I'd be there for _you_. I can't stand the thought of you being alone like this-"

"For god's sake Micky, this ain't about you." Mike said, turning to look at his partner in desperation.

"I know it's not about me!" Micky said. "It's about _you_. You're hurting and you're pretending you're okay when you're not. I don't want you to deal with this by yourself."

"Please, Micky." Mike said, stepping closer to the bed. He stared at Micky in much the same way Micky was staring at him; with a look of desperation, pleading for the other to do as they say. "You _can't_ come with me."

"At least let me drive you to the airport." Micky said, looking up at his partner.

"I've already booked a cab. It'll be here any minute." Mike replied.

Micky looked down, shaking his head. He felt totally defeated.

"Please don't make me leave you like this." Mike said. "I_ need_ you to understand."

Micky looked up. Mike was trying to look so assured, so strong, but Micky could see that behind the tough facade Mike was in pain, and Micky didn't want to add to that.

"You have to call me." Micky said, looking his partner dead in the eye. "I _mean_ it, Mike. Every day or-or whenever you want. I don't give a shit what time it is, if it's in the middle of the night or early in the morning - if you need me, call me. Please, Mike. Promise me."

Mike looked at Micky hard, and he nodded his head. "You don't need to worry about me." He said, placing his hand on the side of Micky's face. "I'm fine. Honestly I am."

Micky shook his head slowly. "Why are you lying to me?" He asked. "Why won't you just tell me how you really feel? You have nothing to be ashamed of. It's okay to grieve - it's normal. You don't need to act like you're fine-"

"_Micky_," Mike said sternly, though not aggressively. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly. "I love you." He opened his eyes. "I'll be okay. Please don't worry about me."

"How can I not worry about you?" Micky asked.

Mike leaned in, kissing his partner gently on the lips. "Are you okay to lock the house up for me?"

"Of course I am." Micky replied.

"Good boy." Mike said, still stroking the side of Micky's head. "I'll see you soon."

Micky opened his mouth to speak, but Mike turned, grabbed hold of his suitcase and swiftly left the room. Once again, Micky was left feeling completely helpless. He was frustrated, sad and angry, although his anger wasn't necessarily aimed at Mike; Micky was angry that they lived in a world where they couldn't be honest about who they really were and what they had together, and as a result he couldn't even support his partner in a time of crisis.

Micky rubbed his face with his hands - he felt sick. He knew Mike wasn't as hard as he made out, and the thought of the Texan suffering in silence broke Micky's heart. Micky knew that Mike would be with his family, but that wasn't the point; at night Mike would go back to his house in Texas, and he'd be all alone with his thoughts. Micky couldn't bear the thought of Mike being alone, and Micky just knew that Mike wouldn't confide in his family, either. Mike would try to be strong for them, because that's what Mike did - but who would be strong for Mike? Micky felt like that was his job right now, but his stubborn partner wasn't letting him do it.

Micky climbed off the bed. He walked to the window and peered outside to see Mike putting his case in the back of a cab that was now in the driveway. Micky peaked out from behind the curtain; every part of him wanted to knock on the window, to blow a kiss or give his partner a little smile to say goodbye, but he knew Mike would kill him if he did that - and the cab driver probably wouldn't be too pleased, either.

Micky watched as the cab slowly pulled away, and it killed Micky that he wasn't in the car as well. Micky wanted to be there every step of the way. He wanted to sit with Mike waiting for the flight. He wanted to sit next to Mike on the plane and hold his hand - even if the Texan didn't want to talk. And Micky wanted to be there when Mike met his family, or at least when Mike got back to his Texas-home at night. Micky wanted to cuddle his partner and tell him that everything would be okay. He wanted Mike to open up to him, to confide in him, to expose his feelings to him, and to not push him away.

But Micky couldn't have any of those things, and all he could do was sit. Sit and wait. Sit and wait for a phone call that, knowing Mike, might never come. Micky thought about how frustrating it was that they couldn't do things that "normal couples" did, but all of that seemed meaningless in comparison to this. For the first time since he and Mike had gotten together, Micky was devastated that they couldn't be like everyone else, and it broke his heart.


	10. Chapter 10

The day was long for Micky as he desperately waited by the phone for word from Mike. Micky didn't even want to leave the house in fear of missing the call, and he was so frustrated that he actually had no idea when - or even if - Mike would ring him.

So Micky hung out at home, reading books and watching TV. He even resorted to a bit of cleaning to kill the time - that's how desperate he was for a distraction from his worry. Micky would've liked Mike to have called him once the Texan had gotten a flight, but alas all Micky could do was wait and wait some more.

It was early evening and Micky was lying spaced out on the couch when the phone finally started ringing. Micky leapt off the couch and almost fell over as he dashed towards the phone.

"Hello?!" Micky said almost desperately into the receiver.

"Hey, Mick." Came Mike's sombre voice.

"Oh thank god." Micky said, breathing a sigh of relief. "I've been waiting to hear from you all day."

"Are you alone?" Mike questioned.

Micky frowned. "Of course I'm alone." He replied. "I'm hardly in the mood to have people over, am I? I've been going out of my mind worrying about you all day."

"I told you that you don't need to worry about me." Mike said.

"I thought I'd have heard from you hours ago." Micky said, rubbing his face. "When did you arrive?"

"I got a flight more or less right away, so I've been here all day." Mike replied. "I just got back from Ma's. It's been a long day."

"How is your mom?" Micky wondered.

There was a short silence. "She could be worse, I guess." Mike answered. "It's hard to know what she's feelin', to be honest."

Micky resisted all temptation to make a comment about how Mike was clearly just like his mother. "Yeah..." He said, scratching his head. "And how's everyone else?"

"Shocked. Which is stupid really, seeing as Grandma was sick." Mike said.

"You still can't prepare yourself for losing someone though." Micky told him. "Are there any plans for, you know, for the funeral yet?"

"Yeah, that's what we've been doin' today." Mike replied. "Turns out Grandma was pretty organised and knew exactly what she wanted. It's happenin' Friday, which is good. We only got a few days to wait before she's laid to rest."

"Oh, that's good." Micky said, surprised that they'd managed to get the funeral organised so soon. "Well, not _good_ exactly, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah. I know, Mick." Mike said.

A short silence followed.

"And how are_ you_..?" Micky asked cautiously.

"I'm fine." Mike replied, and Micky closed his eyes in response. "Just tired. It's been a long day. It's real hot here too."

Micky sighed deeply. "And how are you feeling apart from being tired and hot?"

"I'm tellin' ya, I'm fine. Seriously, Mick. I told you that you don't need to worry about me." Mike tried to reassure him.

"I can't help it though." Micky sighed, sitting on the chair closest to the phone. "I wish I was there with you. I don't like the thought of you in that house on your own. Do you even have any food in or anything?"

"My mom called the housekeeper to get the place ready for me." Mike replied. "She cleaned the place, made up the bed, put a few essentials in the cupboards. It's all good, Mick. Everything's fine."

"I could've done all that though." Micky said, leaning his head against the back of the chair. "I hate that you're on your own."

"_Micky_," Mike said, his voice sounding a little warning. "Please don't."

"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to make you feel bad, I just... I just feel really hopeless here."

"Well don't." Mike said firmly. "I love you, baby. You're right to be there and not here. I don't want you worryin' about a single thing, you got me? I'll be home in a week or so, probably."

"I could come to the funeral." Micky suggested, cringing as he said it. He knew full-well what Mike's response would be, but he couldn't help himself.

"No." Mike replied without hesitation.

"It's not like I never met her; I_ did_ meet her that time, remember? So I could just say I was in town and wanted to pay my respects or something." Micky went on.

Micky could hear Mike sighing down the phone. "I ain't gonna keep repeating myself, Micky. You can't come and that's the end of it. I love you, but please stop pushin' me. I ain't gonna change my mind."

Micky nodded, which was stupid seeing as Mike couldn't see him. "Okay. I'm sorry. Really... I'm sorry about everything. I just want to help but I know there's nothing I can do."

"Just don't worry. That's all I ask of you right now. If I know you're okay, I'm okay." Mike said, his voice a lot softer this time.

Micky was frustrated that Mike seemed to be making it all about Micky. "I love you so much, you know that?"

"I do know, Mick. And I love ya too." Mike said gently. "But look, I'm gonna go now. I'll speak to ya soon."

"You'll call me tomorrow?" Micky asked hopefully.

"I will, babe. I promise." Mike replied. "Love you."

"Love you, Mike."

"Bye."

"Bye."

And then it went quiet. Micky sighed sadly, looking at the phone in his hand. Micky wanted a hug. Micky wanted a big, fat cuddle with Mike. More than anything though, Micky was pretty sure Mike needed a hug, too. Micky couldn't imagine Mike's mother giving her son a proper hug; from the times Micky had met Mike's mom over the years, he'd found her to be a little stony and she came across rather hard. Micky knew not to judge her too much; after all, that was how Mike appeared to some people, although Micky knew that couldn't be further from the Mike that _he_ knew. Micky knew, probably more than anyone else, that Mike was gentle, soft and incredibly kind. He was selfless, a lot of the time, with a unique power of making out that he didn't give a shit when in actuality, he really, really did. Mike was frustrating, and Mike was proud. Micky wondered whether it was pride that kept Mike from revealing his true pain about his grandmother's death, or maybe he was just in denial at the moment?

Micky wasn't 100% sure of the reasoning behind Mike's defensiveness. Micky wondered if, when Mike was alone, he gave in to his real feelings and emotions. Micky couldn't exactly picture Mike sitting in a dark room crying his eyes out, but what if he was wrong? The thought made Micky shudder. If Mike was going to give in and face his true feelings, Micky wanted to be there for him. If Mike finally felt like talking about his loss, Micky wanted to be there to listen.

* * *

Two days passed, and it was now the day before Mike's grandmother's funeral.

Mike had spent the day with his mother and aunties making final preparations for the following day. It was early evening by the time Mike headed back to his Texas-home - a very modern but modest one-story house that he stayed in whenever he came to visit his family. It had been another hot day as well, and Mike was looking forward to crashing out on the couch with a cold beer after another long and challenging day.

Mike parked his rented car up in the driveway to his house. When Mike got out of the car, he noticed someone sitting on the porch leaning against the front door, looking down at something. The person was wearing shorts, a t-shirt, a cowboy hat and shades. Mike frowned, wondering who on earth was sitting outside his house on a day like today, and when he got even closer he noticed the person was looking down at a book. A little closer still, and Mike noticed some rather familiar curls poking out from underneath the cowboy hat.

As Mike climbed the steps to the porch, Micky looked up from his book, finally noticing the Texan coming towards him.

"_Micky_?!" Mike gasped, stunned to see his partner sat waiting for him.

Micky dropped his book and quickly scrambled to his feet, stumbling and almost falling over as he did so. "Don't be mad." Micky said quickly, pressing his hand against the front door to steady himself. "I know you said I shouldn't come but you didn't even call me yesterday and- and I'm here now."

Mike's head was in a spin. He looked around quickly before unlocking the door and letting them both inside. Micky grabbed his bag and once the door was safely closed behind them, Mike turned to his lover.

"What the hell are you doin' here?!" Mike asked, as surprised as he was angry.

Micky pulled off the sunglasses and cowboy hat. "Why do you think I'm here?" He asked gently, placing his hat and shades on a cabinet just inside the door. "To see _you_, you idiot."

Mike rubbed his face with his hand, shaking his head in disbelief. "I _told_ you not to come." He snapped.

"I know you did. And if you want to kill me and bury me in the back yard then fine, because at least I've seen you first." Micky went on. "Nobody know's I'm here. I said I was going to be out of town for a few days and that was it. And nobody saw me outside, either. That's why I wore the hat and glasses, so no one would recognise me. I was trying to be incon- inconspicuous."

Mike run his fingers through his hair. "Why the hell didn't you tell me you were comin'?"

"Because I knew you'd get all mad and tell me not to." Micky replied. "I was going out of my mind at home so I just thought, fuck it."

Mike could hardly believe Micky was standing in front of him. He didn't know whether to hug him or shake him.

"Well how long have you been sittin' out there for?" Mike questioned.

Micky shrugged. "Uh," He looked at his watch. "About three hours."

"Micky, it's about 96 degrees out there!" Mike said in dismay.

"I was sheltered by the porch, and I had my hat." Micky protested, fluffing up his hair with his hand. "It did make my head sweaty though."

"Mick, it's still boilin' hot even in the shade, you stupid boy." Mike stared at his partner in horror.

"Yeah..." Micky conceded. "I could do with a drink of water, to be honest."

Mike tutted loudly before walking towards the kitchen. His house was open-plan and Micky followed Mike the short distance to the kitchen sink. Mike quickly grabbed a glass, filled it with water and thrust it at his partner almost aggressively.

"Thanks." Micky said sheepishly as he took the glass. He wasted no time in knocking the water back.

"Stupid boy." Mike repeated, angry that Micky had been waiting for him for so long and that he was even there in the first place. "I can't believe- I can't believe you came all this way when I told you not to."

Micky swallowed the last of his water and sighed with relief. "You can't tell me what to do." He said with a little bit of attitude. "And also, the one thing you asked of me was not to worry. Well there was no way I was going to_ not_ worry until I saw you, so technically me being here is doing what you asked."

Mike scrunched his face up in disbelief at Micky's logic. He was frustrated, annoyed and angry that Micky had disobeyed him, but at the same time a part of him fell in love with Micky even more.

"Please don't be mad." Micky said, his confidence slipping. He suddenly looked sad. "I know I went behind your back, I know you specifically told me not to come... but I'm here now."

Mike closed his eyes, sighing deeply. He was facing an inner battle with himself that he didn't have the energy to fight. "Come here, you idiot." He said, striding up to Micky and wrapping his arms around him.

Micky responded to the hug by squeezing Mike tightly, nuzzling the Texan's neck. Just feeling Micky's arms around him made Mike feel calmer and like a small weight had been lifted. Mike pulled back quite quickly though, placing his hands on either side of Micky's face and staring at the younger man intently.

"I can't believe you came." Mike said, shaking his head as he gazed at his boy. "Look at ya, you look like you've been meltin'. You stupid, stupid boy."

"I am pretty hot." Micky admitted. He flapped his arms slightly. "I probably don't smell too great either. Sorry."

Mike pressed his lips against Micky's in a swift, quick kiss. "When will you learn to listen to me?" He asked.

"Maybe when you actually start talking." Micky replied seriously, staring at Mike with the same level of intensity that Mike looked at him.

Mike stepped back, turning away from his lover. He put both hands to his face, rubbing it hard and taking a deep breath.

"This is a really nice place you've got here." Micky said, looking around the large open-planned room.

"Yeah, it ain't bad." Mike mumbled, scratching his head. He looked up at Micky. "Have you eaten?" He asked before frowning at himself for his stupid question. "Of course you ain't, you been sittin' on my porch for hours on end."

Micky smiled sheepishly. "Yeah... I haven't eaten since this morning. But don't worry about it; I can rustle somethin' up."

"Don't be stupid." Mike said, waving his hand dismissively. "You should go freshen up. I got a pie in the refrigerator that my aunt sent me. I ain't sure what it is, but-"

"That sounds great." Micky smiled.

Mike stared at Micky once more, still unsure whether to be angry with him or not.

Micky's face fell. "You're seriously pissed with me, aren't you?" He asked.

"I told you you couldn't come with me. You totally went against what I said." Mike said, staring at Micky once again.

"Technically I didn't _come_ with you. You've already been here a couple of days, so it's not like we came together." Micky said in his defence. "And like I said, nobody knows I'm here, and even if they did, why would they suspect anything? Can't a man support a friend without people getting suspicious?"

Mike scratched his head. "Well... like you said, you're here now."

* * *

Mike showed Micky to the bathroom so he could take a shower and cool himself down after a long afternoon of waiting in the heat for Mike. Once Micky had freshened up, the two of them sat in silence eating the pie Mike's aunt had sent him. Mike's mind was spinning; he was so angry that Micky had disobeyed him, but on the other hand he was almost flattered that Micky had gone against him purely to be with him. Mike admired Micky's balls and his ability to do what he thought was right even if he knew he'd get shit for it.

Mike stared at his now empty plate, his mind racing. Micky watched the Texan as he finished the last of his pie.

"You know, you were less mad than I thought you'd be." Micky said, breaking the silence. He laid his fork down on his plate, looking up at his partner. "I thought you'd be furious."

"I am." Mike replied bluntly.

"No, you're not." Micky protested, causing Mike to look up. "You're pissed, but you're not angry. Not really."

Mike shook his head slowly. "I told you I didn't want you to come."

"No, you didn't." Micky said without hesitation, and Mike frowned in response. "You said you didn't _need_ me to come, which was probably a lie. But you never said you didn't_ want_ me to come."

Mike looked down at his plate again. "You're unbelievable." He muttered.

"In a good way or a bad way?" Micky wondered innocently.

Mike looked up to see Micky looking at him with that innocent expression, those soft almond-shaped eyes gazing at Mike adoringly, even though Micky knew Mike wasn't totally happy with him. Mike's heart melted. He suddenly realised how good it was to see Micky's face, so boyish and flawless, so soft and kind. Mike's stomach fluttered which annoyed him - when did he get so weak? Micky disobeyed him, and Mike believed he should be furious with the boy in front of him for going behind his back. But Micky was right, and Mike wasn't furious at all.

"You got a lot of nerve, boy." Mike finally said, a half-smile on his face.

Micky smiled back. "I know." He admitted. "I thought you might drag me back to the airport kicking and screaming and send me straight home again. But I had to be with you, babe. I've hardly been able to sleep thinking about you here on your own."

Mike tutted loudly, his smile fading. "I told ya I'm fine, Micky. I shouldn't have to keep repeating myself."

"But are you glad to see me?" Micky asked. "Are you glad that I'm here?"

"I don't know what you expect to do," Mike said, ignoring the question. "I'm gonna be out all day at the funeral tomorrow."

Micky scratched his head nervously. "I uh, I didn't want to tempt fate, but... but I did bring a suit with me. You know, just in case you wanted me to come with you-"

"No." Mike cut Micky off before he could finish, and the Texan felt his entire body go stiff and tense. "I ain't goin' through this with you _again_."

"But I did meet her. I mean, what's so wrong about me paying my respects too?" Micky wondered.

Mike took a slow, deep breath, desperate to keep his cool. "So you're sayin' you want to go to the funeral of a woman you only met once a couple of years ago?" He asked calmly.

"Yeah. Why not?" Micky asked. "I want to be there for you."

Mike closed his eyes, taking another deep breath. He looked up at Micky, staring his partner dead in the eye. "So you wouldn't want to sit at the back of the church then, out of the way?"

Micky opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out - he'd clearly not thought about that. "I uh, I don't know."

"I do." Mike said matter-of-factly. "You'd want to sit next to me. And you'd keep lookin' at me to make sure I'm okay. And then you'd try to hold my hand."

Micky frowned. "I wouldn't do that. Why do you think I'd be that stupid?" He asked, looking a little hurt.

"Because you're the most loving, sensitive and affectionate person I've ever known." Mike replied without any kind of hesitation. "You have a heart of solid gold and you give a shit about people. God only knows why you give a shit about me, but you do. Look at ya - you came all this way just because you didn't believe me when I told you I was fine. You don't know when to stop, Micky. You don't know where to draw the line."

"That's not- that's not fair." Micky said. "I know what we can and can't do. I know that I can be here with you right now but that I can't hold your hand in public. Do you think I'm stupid or something?"

"No. I think you think with your heart instead of your head." Mike replied, still holding Micky under an intense gaze. "I love you for it, but it ain't practical. Not for the life we have to lead, anyway."

"I'll sit at the back then. You won't even have to know I'm there." Micky said, now unable to look Mike in the eye.

"I will know you're there, because I'll be lookin' over my shoulder all day long." Mike said. "Because I know you. And you'll be watchin' me to make sure I'm okay."

"No I won't..." Micky muttered quietly, pushing the crumbs around his plate with his fork.

"Yes, you will." Mike said. "And what about next time, Mick?"

Micky looked up. "Next time?"

"Next time somethin' like this happens." Mike replied. "Next time there's some big family event or crisis. Weddings, funerals... I mean, you have grandparents, Micky, and they ain't gonna be here forever. What happens when one of your grandparents pass away? Are you gonna want me to be at the funeral?"

Once again Micky opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out right away. He took a moment. "Yeah, of course I'd want you to be there." He finally said.

"Would you want me sitting next to you, or at the back of the church like a virtual stranger?" Mike questioned.

Micky was starting to look a little flustered. "I'd want you sitting next to me, but- but I know you wouldn't be able to. I get that." He said.

Mike reached across the table, placing his hand on top of Micky's. "It's never gonna be normal for us, Micky." He said firmly, staring into his boy's eyes. "There's always going to be a next time, and a time after that. And if we're always there in the shadows at these things, it ain't gonna be enough for you. You're always gonna want more than what we can have. There's always going to be somethin' you want that I can't give you. We have to be satisfied with what we got."

"I am." Micky said, his eyes pleading with Mike. "You're not being fair. You think I don't know all this, but I do. I know we can't be like normal couples, I get that. But- but you're so paranoid. People aren't going to think I'm your secret male lover just because I attend your grandmother's funeral."

"Maybe not." Mike said honestly. "But when these things keep addin' up, people might find it strange. We can't take that risk, Micky. I don't know how many times I have to tell you. And you wouldn't be happy just sittin' at the back of the church away from me. And what about the wake, huh? Would you wanna come to that too? Because that's family only, babe."

Micky stared down at the table. He looked upset, and Mike felt so guilty.

"This is why I didn't want you to come." Mike said quietly, withdrawing his hand from Micky's. "Because you always want more."

Micky looked up. "I just wanna be there for you. I love you." He said in a sad and gentle voice that broke Mike's heart a little bit.

Mike looked at his boy. "You _are_ here for me. That's what you need to understand. But I am fine, Micky. Honestly I am. I'm totally okay and I don't want you to worry about me."

"But you shut me out." Micky said sadly, staring at the Texan. "I'm not talking about the funeral. I get that. I get that I can't come, and I'm sorry, because it was stupid for me to think I could. But you don't talk to me, Mike. It was just you, your mom and your grandma growing up, and it's like you're trying to make out that her being gone is just a minor inconvenience to you. You're not telling me how you really feel and it drives me crazy. I wish you'd let me in."

Mike pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. He picked up the empty plates from the table and walked to the kitchen.

"See, and when I push you, you just walk off." Micky called after him. "Maybe if you gave me a bit more of _you_, I wouldn't want so much of everything else."

Mike dropped the plates in the sink a little more aggressively than intended. He stared into the sink, anger starting to bubble in his stomach.

"Why won't you talk to me?" Micky asked, now standing beside Mike. "I want to know how you feel."

"I told you I'm fine, Micky!" Mike said, turning to his partner and raising his voice. "Why won't you change the goddamn record? I'm sick of repeating myself! It's like you're disappointed I ain't cryin' on the floor like a broken man. Do you want me to be some little project or somethin', huh? Somethin' you can fix and piece back together?"

"That's not fair." Micky said quietly.

"Well I'm sorry to disappoint you, Micky, but I really am okay." Mike spat. "So if you want somethin' to fix, you might as well go home and work on turnin' a car engine into a fuckin' flying machine or somethin'. Because I am fine, and I ain't gonna keep sayin' it."

"I'm sorry." Micky said, looking a little withdrawn and almost nervous by Mike's reaction. "I just... I know what it's like to lose someone."

Mike felt guilty. He almost felt sick with guilt, looking at Micky's unsure face watching over him nervously.

"I need some fresh air." Mike said, pushing past Micky and heading towards the back door.

Mike stormed outside into the back garden. At the bottom of the garden was a deck and some chairs - a perfect place to sit on a warm evening. The sun was getting low now, and the temperature had cooled down significantly. Mike slumped down on one of the chairs and run his fingers through his dark hair. Micky was hard work, but Mike admitted that he himself was hard work, too. Mike was frustrated that Micky never seemed to take the hint and just leave him alone, and it was beginning to drive Mike mad. Mike knew Micky's heart was in the right place, but that didn't stop Mike from wanting to tear his hair out.

* * *

Micky stayed indoors for a while, realising he may have tried Mike's patience enough for one evening. Micky was relieved that Mike wasn't too angry about his surprise visit, but at the same time he was disheartened that Mike still wasn't able to tell him his true feelings about his grandmother's passing.

Micky eventually made his way out into the garden to find Mike. Micky had never been to this house before and was surprised by how large and well-kept the back garden was. Micky walked across the lawn, the sun now casting long shadows on the perfect Texas summer evening.

"It's a beautiful evening." Micky said as he walked onto the deck.

"It's cooled down a lot." Mike added as Micky sat on a chair opposite him. "It's nice out here now."

Micky nodded. "This is a great garden, too." He said, looking around.

"There's a gardener who comes by every couple'a weeks to maintain it." Mike added.

"I'm surprised you don't come back here more often." Micky said. "This place is lovely."

"I used to come a lot more with Phyllis and the kids, you know, so our families could see the boys." Mike sighed.

"Are they coming tomorrow?" Micky wondered.

"Yeah." Mike replied. "Well, Phyllis is. The boys will be here but they won't be comin' to the funeral - it ain't really a place for kids. They're arrivin' in the morning. I think it'll do my mom good to see her grandkids."

Micky nodded. "Definitely." He said.

Silence fell upon the pair, the only sounds being a light breeze and traffic far in the distance.

Mike looked up. "Me losin' my grandma is totally different to you losing your dad, you know."

Micky looked at his partner. "How is it different?"

"Because my grandma was an old lady, and she was sick." Mike replied. "I mean, she was a grandparent. Grandparents ain't gonna be around forever."

"_Nobody_ is going to be around forever." Micky added.

Mike raised his eyebrows, nodding his head in acceptance of Micky's point. "Yeah," He begun. "But it still ain't the same. You were just a kid when you lost your dad; a teenager. And your dad was way too young to die."

"Age isn't important." Micky said, looking at Mike with narrowed eyes. "People are still people and these are still lives. I'm not saying that a child dying is the same as an old person dying, but they're all human beings. Everyone is special to someone else. Okay, maybe it's more tragic when somebody dies young, because that's not the way it's meant to be. But the fact is, when somebody dies, they're gone, whether they're 55 or 105. Somebody is still gonna miss 'em. You think just because your grandma was old, you're not allowed to grieve?"

Mike was silent for a moment, looking out over the garden. "I didn't say that." He said quietly.

"Then why are you comparing her death to me losing my father?" Micky questioned, failing to understand Mike's logic.

"Because they ain't the same things at all." Mike said, looking at Micky again.

"Maybe not," Micky replied. "But at the end of the day, my dad was important to me, and your grandma was important to you. And neither of them are around anymore, and that's... that's _sad_."

Mike looked away again, and Micky was desperate to know what was in Mike's head.

"It's not a competition." Micky added after a few moments silence. "And for the record, no, I don't want to see you a "broken man". I don't want to have to fix you. I just want you to stop acting like a goddamn emotionless machine. I know people deal with things differently, and I get that. When my dad died, I didn't want to talk about it at first, either. I thought talking about it made it real. I couldn't even bring myself to say the words; "my dad has died." because it was like turning a nightmare into reality. But burying my emotions didn't help, either. It was...it was hard for me. I felt like I had to be the man of the house and be strong for my mom and sisters. My mom always used to tell me she was fine when I knew she wasn't, because she was trying to protect us all and be strong for us. She was the parent; she felt like that was her job."

Micky paused, looking towards Mike. Mike's head was hung as he listened to what Micky was saying.

"And maybe I can get you trying to be strong for your mom or whoever, because that's the kind of guy you are." Micky continued. "But you don't need to be like that with _me_. You can talk to me."

Mike remained silent. Micky watched his lover closely; Mike was the most interesting and infuriating man Micky had ever met. He was unpredictable, too, and Micky had no idea whether the Texan was going to shout at him, hug him, storm off, or actually think about confiding in him.

"How much was your flight?" Mike asked.

Micky sat back, completely stumped by that question. He looked around in confusion. "_What_?"

"Your flight," Mike replied. "How much was the ticket?"

"Wha- _why_?" Micky asked in a high-pitched voice, narrowing his eyes and staring at Mike in utter confusion.

"Because you came all this way just to see me, the least I can do is pay for your ticket." Mike said, looking as if he was completely unaware of how bizarre he sounded.

Micky's face scrunched up in confusion and disbelief. "Wha- what? Mike, what? I don't- I don't need you to pay for my ticket." He said.

Mike rose to his feet. He stretched as he stood, completely ignoring Micky's obvious confusion. "I don't mind." He said.

"Mike, I can pay for my own flight." Micky said, trying to figure out how the hell Mike's mind worked. "Why would you even ask that?"

Mike looked down at his boy and shrugged his shoulders. "I was tryin' to be nice."

Micky scratched his head. "Uh," He blinked hard, trying to process the way the conversation had turned. "You really don't need to do that. You didn't ask me to come here; actually, you asked me _not_ to come. So the least I can do is pay for my own flight."

"If you're sure." Mike said quietly.

Micky looked up at Mike, and the Texan looked sad. Micky, at this stage, had no idea whether it was because he'd declined Mike's offer of paying for the flight, or whether it was because of their conversation. Micky actually had no clue how Mike's mind was working at all, and it unsettled him deeply.

The pair of them were silent as they looked at each other. Micky wondered if Mike's guards were falling down. The tall Texan looked tired, weary almost, and it hurt Micky to see his partner like that.

"I love you, Micky." Mike said sadly.

"I love you, too." Micky replied gently, standing up. Micky reached out and gently touched Mike's dark hair. "I'm on your side, you know." He continued softly. "I do know what you're going through."

Mike placed his hand on top of Micky's and laced their fingers together. Mike brought Micky's hand down from his face and stared down at it as Micky watched on, wondering what Mike would do or say next.

"I'm glad you're here." Mike said in little more than a whisper.

Micky smiled, realising he'd pushed his partner hard enough for one day. "Let's go inside."


	11. Chapter 11

Mike was getting himself dressed and ready to say goodbye to his grandmother. He'd been out that morning to see Phyllis and his children, but now he was back at the house preparing for the funeral.

Mike seemed nothing short of in control; organised and confident, it didn't seem like he was about to attend the funeral of a close and well-loved relative. Micky had, for the most part, kept his mouth shut, deciding that today wasn't the best day to try and badger his partner into opening up. And Mike didn't actually seem like he needed to open up at all; he did actually appear to be almost completely fine.

Micky watched the Texan closely for any signs of his mask slipping. Mike was so convincing with his display of okay-ness that Micky started to wonder if, perhaps, Mike really_ was_ totally fine after all. But how could that be, Micky wondered? How could Mike possibly not be hurting deep within when somebody he loved so dearly was gone forever? Micky figured that Mike was just a better actor than he realised.

Mike was standing in front of the mirror as Micky walked into the bedroom. Micky smiled sympathetically at his partner, dressed in a black suit and tie, which Mike seemed to be having some difficulty with.

"Stupid thing." Mike muttered, cursing the tie which didn't seem to be cooperating with him.

"Here, let me do that." Micky said, walking over to the Texan.

Mike turned to Micky, allowing the slightly shorter man to adjust the tie accordingly.

"There," Micky said, taking a step back. "You look great."

Mike looked at himself in the mirror once more, straightening the tie. "Thanks."

"You've always looked good in a suit." Micky said, admiring his partner. "You sure scrub up better than I do."

Mike tutted. "Don't talk stupid." He said, flattening his hair with his hand.

Micky smiled as Mike turned to face him again. "Are you gonna be okay today?" He asked.

Mike nodded. "I'm all good, Mick." He replied.

Micky smiled sadly before wrapping his arms around Mike and pulling him into a hug. The couple embraced for a moment before Mike pulled back.

"I feel bad that you're gonna be here on your own all day." Mike sighed.

"Now who's talking stupid?" Micky asked, tilting his head to the side. "I'll be fine. Maybe I'll go for a walk or something. I'll probably just hang out in the sun."

"As long as you wear plenty of sunscreen." Mike said with a frown. "It's roastin' out there again, Mick."

Micky smiled, reaching up to brush back Mike's hair. "Always looking out for me..." He said gently.

"It's 'cause I love ya." Mike replied.

Micky stared at his partner. "Look, I know what you're gonna say, but humour me, will you?" Micky said, causing Mike to give him an uncertain look. "I'm gonna be here most of the day, and I just want you to know- well, if you need me at all, to talk or whatever, just pick up the phone. I mean, that's if you get a moment alone. I know you won't but I just- I just need you to know that I'm here if you _do_ need me."

Mike smiled sadly, gazing at the boy in front of him. "Okay." He said.

Micky sighed, knowing full-well that Mike wouldn't call, but he accepted his answer all the same.

Mike looked at his watch. "I better get goin'." He sighed.

Micky nodded, and he brushed down Mike's jacket and straightened his tie once more. "Good luck today."

"Thanks." Mike replied.

* * *

When Mike returned home at the end of the day, Micky was waiting for him. Micky had been watching TV when he heard Mike's car outside, and he virtually leapt off the couch and turned off the TV as he waited for his partner to enter the house.

"Hey." Micky said as Mike walked in.

Mike looked tired, drained almost, as he closed the door behind him, his jacket slung over his shoulder. Mike smiled at Micky - a forced smile, clearly - and walked towards the couch as the curly haired man watched him carefully.

"How did it go?" Micky asked as the Texan sat down beside him. Mike sighed, tossing his jacket over the back of the couch before loosening his tie. "Or is that a stupid question?" Micky continued. "I mean, it was a funeral, how do I think it went? Shut up, Micky..."

Micky was anxious and uncomfortable, and he kicked himself for what he thought was a dumb question.

Mike smiled again, a more genuine smile this time. "That ain't a stupid question." He said gently. "And it went well, thank you. It was... it was nice. It was a nice send off. I think Grandma would've liked it."

Micky relaxed a little, and he hoped Mike might open up some more. "How was everyone?"

"Okay. I think we're all relieved she's at peace now." Mike replied.

"And are _you_ okay?" Micky pressed, watching his tired-looking partner.

Mike nodded. "I'm good." He replied.

"You look tired." Micky tilted his head to the side.

"It's been a long day, but I'm fine." Mike said, running his fingers through his hair. "To be honest, I'm glad it's over so we can get back to normal."

Micky frowned. "It won't be totally normal though, not for a while anyway." He said. "I mean, you've still got to get used to your grandma not being around."

Mike shrugged as if he wasn't particularly bothered. "It ain't like I saw her often."

Micky sat back, the frown still stuck on his face. "That's not true. You spoke to her all the time." He said.

Mike stretched out, sighing deeply. "Life goes on." He said casually.

"Why are you acting like you don't care that she's gone?" Micky asked, confused by his partner's bizarre attitude.

"I'm just sayin', it ain't like I saw her every day." Mike replied, nonchalant.

Micky was not only frustrated but he was also concerned by Mike's attitude. "Mike, you wrote to her every week. Every single week without fail you sent her a letter. I'd watch you writing and I'd wonder what the hell you were saying to her that you didn't say the week before or the week before that, but you still made sure she always got a letter from you. And even when we were on tour, you sent her a postcard from every city we were in! Even though there was only ever a few days between each city, you still sent her a postcard - her mailbox would've been overflowing. So don't make out she wasn't a huge part of your life just because you weren't living in the same state anymore."

Mike stood up, ignoring what Micky had said, and Micky started to feel slightly infuriated.

"You're not fooling anyone, you know." Micky told him. "Maybe you're fooling yourself, but you're not fooling me. She meant the whole world to you, Mike."

"I don't need to listen to this." Mike said bluntly, and Micky quickly stood as Mike started to walk away.

"No, I think you _do_ need to listen to this." Micky hit back, and Mike turned to face him. "All week you've been acting like your grandmother's death isn't a big deal, like you're not affected by it, like she was just some virtual stranger or some work colleague you only met once or twice, when in fact she was everything to you! You mentioned her all the time, you were always talking about her. You said that when you were growing up, you saw more of your grandma than your own mom, because your mom was always working so hard. So stop acting like you don't give a shit!"

"I never said I didn't give a shit!" Mike said, raising his voice. "Just because I don't deal with things like you do, it don't mean I'm wrong!"

"You don't seem to be dealing with it at all!" Micky shouted. "If I knew you were talking to your mom or someone else about this then it wouldn't be so bad, but you just clam up and say you're fine when I know damn-well that you're not!"

"Why don't you just get off my case, Micky?" Mike snapped. "I'm sick and tired of you nagging me all the time!"

"And I'm sick of you fucking patronising me, treating me like I'm stupid by telling me you're okay when I know you're not okay at all!" Micky swiped, seriously losing patience now. "Stop lying and just talk to me."

"I don't want to talk to you!" Mike blurted out. "Don't you get it? I don't want to fucking talk about anything."

"Why not?" Micky asked in dismay. "What are you so afraid of? When we first got together, you were always pushing me away and not facing up to how you felt about me. I thought that when we got together properly, we got past that. I thought you were going to start being honest with me about how you felt."

"I'm bored of this now." Mike said coldly, turning his back on Micky.

"That's tough-shit!" Micky yelled. "Because I'm not going to let you keep shutting me out! We're supposed to be a couple, a team - you're supposed to tell me everything."

"I don't want to, Micky!" Mike turned around again. "Why won't you leave me alone? I'm not like you, Micky, I don't feel the need to talk about my problems like you do, I can manage just fine on my own!"

"But you're not on your own!" Micky assured him, so frustrated he wanted to tear his hair out. "Is it pride, is that it? You're too proud to talk? You don't think real men open up about their feelings or something?"

Mike started to walk away, but Micky was hot on his heels.

"You're hurting and I want to help." Micky pleaded. "Why won't you let me in?"

Micky grabbed hold of Mike's arm. Mike shrugged Micky off of him aggressively and glared at the younger man. "Don't touch me." He said in a hard, warning tone.

Mike started to walk away again, only this time Micky didn't follow. Micky stood there hopelessly, and he felt truly at the end of his tether.

"Not talking isn't going to make your problems go away." Micky called after Mike, stopping the Texan in his tracks. "What's the matter with you? Why can't you talk to me?"

"I don't know." Mike replied, only it didn't sound like Mike. Mike's voice cracked as he spoke, and the words left his mouth in an almost pitiful fashion.

Micky froze to the spot. Mike had his back to the curly-haired man, but Micky could tell even from behind that something in Mike had changed. No longer was he standing tall and strong, but now his whole body was slumped. He looked defeated. Micky's stomach flipped and his heart started to race. Mike didn't move; he just stood there.

Micky took a couple of steps towards the Texan, and that's when he realised Mike was shaking. Micky reached out, placing his hand on Mike's shoulder, but Mike flinched as if he'd been touched by a hot iron.

"Mike?" Micky said gently, walking around the slightly taller man.

Mike's hand immediately went to his own face, shielding it from Micky's view. "Don't look at me." He whimpered.

Micky was nothing short of horrified as he tried to look at his partner's face. Mike's hand was trembling, covering his eyes so Micky couldn't see him. He was crying, and that had been obvious right away, but to see Mike like this ripped Micky up inside - he'd never seen the usually poised and strong Texan look so vulnerable.

"Mike," Micky whispered, gently taking hold of the hand in front of the Mike's face and pulling it away. Mike turned his head, and Micky's heart shattered when he saw his partner's tearful eyes, and Mike didn't even have the energy to fight anymore.

"Is-Is this wh-what you want?" Mike gasped out through the tears. "Are you hap-happy now?"

Micky shook his head slowly, and Mike put his other hand in front of his face as he broke down completely.

Micky was mortified as he watched his partner quickly unravel in front of him. Micky realised he needed to get his head together though, and he carefully wrapped his arms around the Texan, pulling him into a hug.

Mike was resistant for only a second before squeezing hold of Micky tighter than Micky had ever been held before, and he buried his face in the younger man's shoulder as he started to sob uncontrollably. Micky felt a lump rise in his own throat, just seeing the man he loved in such emotional distress was almost too much for Micky to bear. Micky rubbed Mike's back as the Texan sobbed into his shoulder, and he could feel the wetness of Mike's tears start to soak through his shirt.

"Shhh." Micky whispered, stroking Mike's hair. "It's okay... I promise, it's okay."

"I'm sorry." Mike sobbed, his words muffled by Micky's shoulder. "I'm s-so sorry."

Micky had no idea what Mike could possibly be sorry for, but it felt like the flood-gates had truly opened for Mike. Micky couldn't help but feel like there was more to this breakdown than just grief; Micky felt as if the weight of the world had been on Mike's shoulders, and finally it had all gotten too much.

Micky's shirt was fisted into tight balls by his partner, and Mike continued to sob as if he had absolutely no control over his emotions anymore. Micky was in total shock; never in his wildest dreams could he ever have imagined Mike being in such a state, and he was suddenly wracked with guilt that he'd pushed his partner too hard and too far.

"It's alright." Micky said gently, desperate to calm a devastated-Mike down. "Please... Mike, it's okay. Darling, it's okay."

Mike sniffed and spluttered, Micky's shirt getting wetter and wetter. Micky closed his eyes, willing this moment to end - it was horrendous and painful, and all Micky wanted to do was make everything bad in Mike's head go away forever. All Micky could do though, was just stand there and hug Mike until he slowly started to calm down.

A minute or two passed before Mike stopped crying. The room just sort of went quiet after what felt like an eternity of Mike's pained sobs. But now it was perfectly peaceful, and Micky felt Mike's body go from rigid to relaxed in his arms.

Mike released Micky's t-shirt from his fists, and the arms that were tightly wrapped around Micky's slim frame loosened. Micky continued to stroke the Texan's hair until Mike slowly lifted his head, pulling back from the couple's embrace. Micky allowed his arms to let go of Mike's suddenly fragile frame, and Mike stepped back, breaking their hug.

Mike's head was hung as he stepped away from Micky, and he instantly turned his back on the curly-haired man again. Micky's heart sunk, although it continued to race; he had no idea what to do or say now.

Mike cleared his throat. "I'm gonna take a shower." He said groggily.

Micky nodded, although Mike couldn't see him. "O-Okay." He said, his voice soft and high.

Mike walked into the bedroom, leaving Micky standing in the lounge in complete and utter shock. Micky looked down, taking hold of his t-shirt and stretching it out so he could see the damp marks that had been left by Mike's tears. Micky stared at the wet patch almost in disbelief; how could those tears have been Mike's? Mike didn't _cry_. Mike never seemed anything less than strong and assured.

Micky stared at the tear-stain as if he couldn't process what had just happened. Micky was devastated that he'd seen Mike so upset; although at the same time, buried deep within him, he felt some relief. It was twisted, Micky thought, but he couldn't help it. Ever since Micky had met the tall, dark Texan, Mike had been mysterious. And even after they had gotten together and Micky had gotten to see a softer, more vulnerable side, Micky always knew there was a lot more bubbling beneath the surface than Mike would ever let on. Even after their heart-to-hearts about their feelings for each other, and Mike's willingness to be so open about just how much he loved Micky, there was still always a tiny something that the Texan had held back, and Micky couldn't help but feel - and hope - that Mike may have finally let his guard down once and for all.

Micky waited for a few minutes after he heard Mike leave the en-suite bathroom, not wanting to pounce on his partner as soon as he emerged from the shower. Mike had been a while, and Micky had been worrying himself stupid as he tried to figure out how to approach the Texan after his breakdown about 30 minutes before.

When Micky finally plucked up the courage to enter the bedroom, he found Mike dressed for bed. Mike paused when Micky came into the room, and he stood there staring at the floor, unable to look at the curly haired man.

Micky was flawed by how sad Mike looked; it was as if a completely different person was standing in front of him. Mike looked like he'd lost all will to fight or to even pretend that he was okay anymore. He looked completely defeated.

Micky knew it wasn't just sadness that his partner was feeling, and he was desperate to reassure the Texan.

"You shouldn't feel embarrassed, you know." Micky said in a gentle but assured tone. Mike still didn't look up. "You've got nothing to be ashamed of. It's okay to cry."

Mike finally looked up so that Micky could see his face. Mike's eyes were bloodshot and puffy from where he'd been crying, and Micky almost felt sick at seeing his partner like that. Micky swallowed hard, watching Mike with kind eyes, wondering what to do next.

"Real men don't cry." Mike finally said, his voice still groggy.

Micky was stunned by that comment - that didn't sound like Mike at all. "That's not true." He said softly.

"That's what my father used to say." Mike replied. The sadness in the Texan's voice was laced with bitterness.

Micky frowned. "Your dad is wrong." He said firmly. "Why would he say that?"

Mike scratched his head, turning away. "I fell off my bike..." He mumbled, sitting down on the bed.

Micky stood there looking over Mike, a permanent frown on his face. "What... you mean he said that to_ you_?" He asked.

Mike nodded, playing with his hands. "I was 11, and I used to stay with my dad for a couple'a weeks every summer. We used to go cycling, and one time I hit a rock in the track and came off my bike." He said slowly. "I turned my ankle. It... it really hurt. It was so painful and I started cryin', 'cause I was just a kid. And my dad grabbed me by the scruff of my shirt and dragged me to my feet. He told me to quit crying, to stop acting like a baby. "Real men don't cry", he said."

Micky watched Mike as he spoke, the Texan staring ahead, not looking at anything in particular.

"It uh, it upset me, you know, 'cause I was just a boy." Mike continued. "And my foot hurt real bad, I ain't ever felt pain like it. I could hardly stand, but he made me push my bike all the way back to the house. We were about two miles away, but he just let me tag along behind, tryin'a keep up with him."

"That's horrible." Micky said quietly, his almond shaped eyes filled with sadness.

Mike sniffed hard, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, well. He ain't a very nice man." He said matter-of-factly. "His idea of bein' a real man was using his fists."

Micky's stomach flipped. "He hit you?" He questioned.

Mike nodded. "A few times; maybe three or four." He replied without hesitation. He started to look stronger again. "The first few times were when I was a bit older; I guess he thought I reached an age where I could handle it or somethin'. It seemed to be once every time I stayed with him. I started to answer back and he didn't like it. He'd hit me round the head, knock me to the floor... I'd bruise under my hair so no one could see it."

Micky walked slowly to the bed, sitting down beside his partner. Mike continued to stare straight ahead as he spoke.

"The final time was the last time I ever stayed with him." Mike continued. "I was 13 and I'd gotten real tall that summer. I mean, I weren't strong, but I was tall for my age... He didn't scare me. I weren't afraid to stand up to him. One time I pushed him too hard and he punched me right in the face. He knocked me to the ground, but I got straight back up again. I got a black eye that sure as hell couldn't be hidden. My dad told me that if my mom asked what had happened, to tell her that I'd walked into a door."

"And did you?" Micky asked slowly.

"No," Mike replied. "She never asked."

Micky frowned, confused. "She didn't ask?"

Mike shook his head. "Grandma did though. I spun her the door line, but I don't know if she believed me."

"I-I don't understand." Micky said gently. "How could your mom not ask you why you had a black eye?"

"She didn't need to." Mike replied. "It ain't like she didn't know what my father was capable of. She knew where it was at."

"Did he hit her too?" Micky questioned.

"He did at least once." Mike said. "Right before they broke up... I heard 'em rowing, and I came downstairs just in time to see my dad hit my mom. I mean, I was only four when they split. They saw me, so I quickly ran back upstairs again. It's one of the earliest things I remember. We left him just a few days later; that was when we went to live with Grandma."

"I can't believe you had to see that." Micky said, his heart breaking. "What did your mom say to you after that?"

"Nothin'." Mike replied. "She never talked to me about it. Not ever."

Micky was horrified. "What, you mean she never spoke to you about what you saw?"

Mike shook his head, finally looking at Micky. "What was the point? It weren't gonna change anything. And as soon as she knew I'd seen what was goin' on, she got us both out of there. She did what she had to do to protect me. The same as when she realised my dad had hit me; she never let me stay with him again. I mean, I don't know if he tried to get me to stay, or if she confronted him about it, but I never saw him again after the black eye. I didn't see him for years after that."

Micky rubbed his face with his hands, trying to process everything Mike had told him. Suddenly, everything was starting to make sense.

"So, what... you've never spoken to your mom about any of this?" Micky pressed gently.

"It don't change nothin'." Mike replied, looking ahead again. "Talkin' ain't gonna put everything right. It weren't gonna wipe away the bruises or stop my dad bein' an asshole."

Micky shook his head slowly in disbelief.

"It ain't a big deal." Mike said, looking at Micky once more. "I never liked my dad much anyway; I never liked stayin' with him. I'm almost glad he did what he did because it meant I didn't have to spend another borin' summer with him."

"You don't mean that." Micky whispered.

Mike looked ahead, sniffing hard again.

"I'm not saying your mom is a bad mother, but... but she should've spoken to you, Mike." Micky said gently. "I know she would've done what she thought was right, but..."

Mike looked at his partner. "She did what she needed to do to protect me." He said again. "She weren't a big talker. She never would've seen me come to any harm."

"I know, but..." Micky scratched his head. "You shouldn't have had to deal with that on your own."

"I was fine." Mike said, looking Micky straight in the eye. "I don't want you feelin' sorry for me. I didn't have some miserable, broken childhood. I was a happy kid. I don't need you pitying me."

Micky stared at Mike with sorrow in his eyes. Micky couldn't help himself; he was devastated to learn about Mike's father and his mother's inability to talk. Micky was beside himself.

"Please don't look at me like that." Mike whispered, pleading with Micky.

Micky quickly reached out, grabbing hold of Mike's hand. "This is why you don't talk about anything," He said. "Because you've _never_ talked about anything."

"Everyone's different." Mike said, looking away.

Micky took hold of Mike's chin, turning the Texan to look at him again. "I'm not your mom." Micky whispered. "And I'm sure as hell not your dad. You don't need to pretend anymore."

Mike stared at Micky, sadness filling his dark eyes once more. His gaze fell. "Grandma talked to me... I didn't talk back, but _she_ talked. And I always knew... I always knew that if I needed her, she'd be there to listen."

Micky squeezed Mike's hand. "You've always been so amazing with me." He begun. "When I've stressed out about Samantha and the baby, you've always been there to talk to me and listen to me and make everything okay again. I don't have to hold back with you; I know I can open my soul to you and you will be there for me. I just want to be able to do the same for you. I want to be there for you. I want to help you."

Mike gazed at Micky, and Micky could see the slightly older man was visibly drained. Mike looked exhausted, totally worn out from the days - and evenings - events.

"I'm tired." Mike whispered.

Micky nodded slowly. Mike stood up, pulling the covers back and climbing into bed. Micky was already dressed for bed; he'd showered earlier on and was dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt. Micky quickly joined Mike in bed, turning the light off before he laid down beside his partner.

The couple laid face to face, looking at each other through the darkness. They just stared at each other in silence for several minutes, Micky himself suddenly feeling completely drained. Micky watched Mike in front of him, the Texan's eyes shining in the dim light that filled the room.

"I'm proud of you." Micky whispered.

Mike was silent for a moment, his expression unchanged. "Why?" He asked quietly.

"Because you opened up to me." Micky replied. "And I know that wasn't easy for you."

Mike blinked, watching Micky through the darkness. "Please don't feel sorry for me." He whispered.

Micky reached out, taking hold of Mike's hand and lacing their fingers together. He kissed Mike's hand firmly.

"I don't want you thinking my mom's a bad person." Mike said quietly. He almost sounded fearful.

"I don't think that, baby." Micky replied gently. "I don't think that at all."

"She only did what she thought was right." Mike said, squeezing Micky's hand.

"I know she did, Mike." Micky whispered.

The room went silent, but Micky and Mike continued to watch each other. Micky stroked Mike's hand with his thumb, wondering what the Texan was thinking about right now.

"Micky?" Mike said quietly. Micky stared at his partner. "I... I'm glad you're with me."

Micky's heart melted. "Come here." He said, opening his arms to Mike.

Mike hesitated for a moment before climbing into Micky's arms and resting his head on the curly-haired man's chest. Micky wrapped his arms around Mike, squeezing him tightly, and Mike buried his face in the crook of Micky's neck.

Micky kissed Mike's head, stroking his hair slowly as Mike suddenly seemed desperate to get as physically close as possible.

Mike moved his hand up underneath Micky's t-shirt, running his palm across Micky's skin. Mike then lifted his head, tugging at the bottom of Micky's t-shirt as if he wanted the younger man to remove it. Micky obliged, lifting himself up enough for Mike to tug the shirt up and over his head. Micky threw the unwanted piece of clothing to one side and laid back down again, Mike instantly latching onto him again.

Mike didn't want Micky to lose his shirt in a sexual way; Micky realised that Mike needed to be so close to him that he didn't even want clothing to come between them. Mike buried his face in the crook of Micky's neck once more, placing his hand flat against Micky's chest. Mike's hand glided over Micky's skin, pressed hard to the flesh as if he wanted to feel every inch of Micky. Finally Mike's hand rested on Micky's heart, and Mike entwined his legs with his partners; there was no way they could possibly be any closer to each other.

Micky bit the inside of his lip. He felt like crying, squeezing his man tightly in his arms. Never before had Micky felt so needed; Mike had often made him feel _wanted_, but tonight Micky realised just how much Mike _needed_ him as well. Not for sex or laughs, and not even just for love. Mike needed Micky for comfort and understanding.

It didn't take long before Mike and Micky fell fast asleep, and the exhausted Texan and his curly-haired partner remained wrapped around each other all night until morning.


End file.
